LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

GIFT   OF" 

Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALSWORTH. 

Received  October,  1894. 
Accessions  No .  /^-  -      Class  No. 


F;Halpin,sc, 


M.W.  Dodd,  TJe-.-. 


LECTURES 


MENTAL  PHILOSOPHY  AND  THEOLOGY. 


BY 


JAMES    RICHARDS,    D.D., 

LATE    PROFESSOR  OF   CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY,  IN  THE    THEOLOGICAL   SEMINARY   AT 
AUBURN,   NEW    YORK. 


SKETCH    OF    HIS    LIFE, 


BY 


SAMUEL    H.    GRIDLEY, 

PASTOR    OF   THE   PRESBYTERIAN   CONGREGATION,   WATERLOO,   NEW   YORK. 


' 


NEW    YORK: 
PUBLISHED    BY    M .    W.    DODD, 

Brick  Church  Chapel,  opposite  City  Hall. 

1846. 


-D 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1846,  by 

M.     W.    DODD, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Clerk  of  the  District  Court,  for  the  Southern  District  of  the 
State  of  New  York. 


EDWARD     O  .   JENKINS,  PRINTER1, 

114  Nassau  street. 


PREFACE. 


SOMETHING,  it  is  supposed,  should  be  said  by  way  of  introducing 
the  following  pages  to  the  attention  of  the  reader.  In  the  first 
place,  it  perhaps  ought  to  be  stated,  that  however  desirable  it  may 
be  that  some  memorial  of  the  Life  and  Character  of  Dr.  Richards 
should  be  preserved,  it  is  quite  evident  that  nothing  in  the  shape 
of  biography  was  contemplated  on  his  part.  He  kept  no  journal 
of  his  religious  exercises,  or  of  the  important  events  of  his  life ; 
and  his  written  allusions  to  his  early  history,  made  in  later  years, 
are,  for  the  most  part,  incidental  in  their  character.  A  single 
scrap  found  among  his  papers,  containing  a  few  dates  relating  to 
change  of  place,  and  reaching  as  far  as  to  the  time  of  his  going  to 
Auburn,  is  the  only  document  put  into  the  hands  of  the  compiler, 
which  seems  to  have  been  written  with  a  design  to  perpetuate  the 
remembrance  of  anything  connected  with  his  history.  It  is  also 
proper  to  state,  that  of  the  benefit  of  his  written  correspondence, 
beyond  the  pale  of  his  own  family,  the  writer  has  been  able  to 
avail  himself  only  in  the  most  sparing  manner.  Other,  therefore, 
have  been  the  sources  from  which  information  has  been  mainly 
derived  in  the  preparation  of  the  Biographical  Sketch.  The  recol- 
lections of  early  friends  (including  the  surviving  brothers  and  sisters 
of  Dr.  Richards) ;  church  records ;  testimony  of  his  parishioners 
when  a  pastor,  and  of  his  early  associates  in  the  Gospel  ministry  ; 
manuals  of  the  churches  of  which  he  was  pastor ;  communications, 
written  and  verbal,  from  his  colleagues  in  the  Seminary  at  Auburn, 
and  from  alumni  of  the  Seminary ;  the  testimony  of  his  own  be- 
reaved family ;  his  correspondence  with  his  children  during  the 


|v  PREFACE. 

last  thirty  years  of  his  life,  and  the  personal  knowledge  of  the 
writer — these  are  the  sources  on  which  reliance  has  been  placed. 
The  compiler  has  taken  great  pains  to  furnish  himself  with  facts,  and 
has  been  careful  to  introduce  nothing  as  fact,  which  has  not  seemed 
to  be  well  sustained.  He  has  visited  the  spot  where  the  subject  of 
his  sketch  was  born,  and  passed  the  days  of  his  childhood — con- 
versed with  his  surviving  brethren  and  sisters — handled  the  church 
record  in  which  his  name  was  written  when  first  entering  into 
covenant  with  God  and  his  people,  and  entered  the  dwelling  and 
surveyed  the  premises  where  he  prosecuted,  in  part,  his  prepara- 
tions for  the  Gospel  ministry. 

The  Lectures  found  in  this  volume,  are  published  under  the 
general  direction  of  the  three  sons  of  Dr.  Richards,  though  under 
the  more  immediate  supervision  of  the  youngest  son,  the  Rev. 
James  Richards,  of  Pen  Yan,  New  York.  They  are  now  given 
to  the  press,  in  pursuance  of  earnest  and  repeated  solicitations 
from  ministers  and  others,  and  especially  from  the  alumni  of  the 
Seminary,  for  whose  benefit  they  were  originally  prepared.  Two 
of  them,  namely,  lectures  "  On  the  Prayer  of  Faith,"  were  pub- 
lished several  years  since  by  request  of  the  students  of  the  institu- 
tion, and  the  last,  "  On  Ability  and  Inability,"  was  published  as 
a  sermon,  while  the  author  was  a  pastor.  It  is  associated  with  the 
Lectures,  and  therefore  receives  the  family  name.  It  is  not  wholly 
unworthy  of  the  company  in  which  it  is  found,  though  its  relative 
position  in  the  volume,  through  mistake,  has  failed  to  be  what  its 
topics  might  justly  claim. 

A  short  time  previous  to  his  death,  Dr.  Richards,  in  con- 
ference with  his  son,  expressed  a  willingness  that  his  lectures  "  On 
the  Will,"  together  with  a  few  others,  should  be  published  if  his 
friends  desired.  Had  he  lived  to  supervise  what  has  now  been 
done,  it  is  quite  probable  that  he  would  have  made  the  vol- 
ume, in  some  respects,  different  from  what  it  is.  Some  of  his 
phraseology  might  have  been  thrown  into  a  more  popular  form, 
and  other  and  more  important  changes  have  been  made.  It  may 
be  proper  to  state,  that  some  fault  may  easily  be  found  with  the 


PREFACE.  y 

use  of  some  verbal  expressions,  especially  in  the  lectures  cc  On  Na- 
tive Depravity ;"  but  in  extenuation,  it  may  be  remarked,  that  if 
words  are  there  found  which  are  not  authorized  by  Webster,  they 
are,  at  least,  easily  understood,  and  the  author  is  entitled  to  the 
credit  of  u  giving  the  trumpet  a  certain  sound."  The  plan  of  the 
lecture  "On  the  Extent  of  the  Atonement,"  as  it  existed  in  the 
author's  mind,  is  not  finished,  inasmuch  as  it  aimed  at  the  discus- 
sion of  two  additional  points,  mentioned  in  the  manuscript,  which 
was  omitted  for  the  want  of  time,  and  which,  though  reserved  for 
another  opportunity,  has  not  been  found.  The  lecture,  however, 
as  published,  is  finished  ;  or  discusses,  at  length,  the  points  it  pro- 
poses. 

As  a  whole,  these  lectures  may  be  regarded  as  the  result  of  the 
author's  maturest  reflections  and  severest  study  ;  and  they  are  now 
sent  forth  into  the  world  with  the  belief  that  however  they  may 
u  provoke  unto  love,"  in  the  form  of  review  or  criticism,  they  will 
nevertheless  impart  interest  and  profit  to  those  who  admire  manly 
discussion,  or  have  a  taste  for  the  character  of  reading  which  they 
are  intended  to  furnish. 

As  to  the  character  of  the  "  sketch,"  the  writer  would  use  a  more 
careful  form  of  speech.  The  work  has  been  hurried  to  the  press 
by  circumstances  which  he  could  not  control;  and  a  part  of  the  Bi- 
ography has  been  written  amid  other  responsibilities  of  the  most 
urgent  and  exciting  character. 

It  may  be  thought  strange  that  the  writer  has  dealt  so  largely  in 
extracts,  and  so  sparingly  in  entire  letters,  but  his  apology  is  two- 
fold. (1.)  The  space  designed  to  be  occupied  by  the  Biography  was 
too  limited  to  allow  the  publishing  of  many  entire  letters  ;  and,  (2,) 
The  writer  is  honestly  oppposed  to  giving  much  space  to  the  mere  in- 
troductions, or  farewells,  or  irrelevant  details  of  letters,  in  a  work  of 
this  kind.  If  letters  furnish  what  will  aid  the  Biographer  in  drawing 
the  character  of  his  subject,  or  what  will  serve  as  links  in  the  chain 
of  his  history,  so  far  they  may  be  used  with  great  advantage ;  but 
beyond  this  they  are,  in  our  judgment,  of  doubtful  utility.  The 
writer  would  state  in  this  connection,  however,  that  he  has  received 


yi  PREFACE. 

several  letters,  from  his  fathers  and  brethren  in  the  ministry,  from 
which  he  has  extracted,  and  which  would  have  been  published 
entire  had  our  space  allowed.  These  brethren  have  our  grateful 
acknowledgments  for  the  facts  which  they  have  communicated,  and 
also  for  the  aid  furnished  to  the  writer  in  confirming  his  own  im- 
pressions of  the  character  he  has  attempted  to  sketch,  and  thereby 
rendering  him  the  more  confident  in  giving  those  impressions  to 
the  world.  From  all,  or  nearly  all,  extracts  are  given.  We  humbly 
hope  that  our  attempt  to  draw  the  character  of  Dr.  Richards  will 
not  be  found  an  entire  failure.  If  those  who  knew  him  well  shall 
recognize,  in  any  good  measure,  the  noble  original — if  the  bereaved 
widow  and  the  fatherless  shall  be  satisfied — and  if  the  youthful  min- 
istry of  our  land  shall  be  induced  to  covet  more  earnestly  the  fallen 
mantle  of  the  u  venerated  dead,"  then  good  has  been  done — good 
to  which,  under  God,  our  lamented  father  contributed,  both  in  fur- 
nishing the  character  drawn,  and  in  his  influence  upon  the  wri- 
ter—a son  of  the  AUBURN  SEMINARY. 
Waterloo,  1th  May>  1846. 


CONTENTS. 

BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.    .** 

CHAPTER     I. 

Page 

FROM  HIS  BIRTH  TO  HIS  LICENSE  TO  PREACH  THE  GOSPEL,    ...          9 

CHAPTER    II. 
FROM  HIS  LICENSE  TO  THE  CLOSE  OF  HIS  MINISTRY  AT  MORRISTOWN,  .        17 

CHAPTER    III. 
His  MINISTRY  AT  NEWARK,     . 28 

CHAPTER    IV. 

HlS   CONNECTION  WITH   THE  THEOLOGICAL    SEMINARY  AT  AUBURN,   .  .  34 

CHAPTER    V. 

LAST  SICKNESS  AND  DEATH, 59 

CHAPTER    VI. 
NOTICES  OF  HIS  CHARACTER  AND  INFLUENCE  IN  VARIOUS  RELATIONS.       .        70 

LECTURES. 

LECTURE    I. 
ON  THE  WILL,  '. 97 

LECTURE    II. 
ON  THE  WILL,  (continued,) 115 

LECTURE    III. 
ON  THE  WILL,  (continued,) 131 

LECTURE    IV. 
ON  CREATION, 154 

LECTURE    V. 
ON  CREATION,  (continued,) 16$ 


CONTENTS. 

LECTURE    VI.  Page 

ON  SECOND  CAUSES, 185 

LECTURE    VII. 
ON  SECOND  CAUSES,  (continued,) 202 

LECTURE    VIII. 

ON  SECOND  CAUSES,  (continued,)     : 218 

LECTURE    IX. 
ON  THE  FALL  OF  MAN,  .        .        . 236 

LECTURE    X. 
ON  NATIVE  DEPRAVITY, 256 

LECTURE    XI. 
ON  NATIVE  DEPRAVITY,  (continued,) 273 

LECTURE    XII. 
ON  NATIVE  DEPRAVITY,  (continued,) 292 

LECTURE    XIII. 
ON  THE  EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT, 302 

LECTURE    XIV. 
ON  ELECTION, 328 

LECTURE    XV. 
ON  EFFECTUAL  CALLING, 349 

LECTURE    XVI. 
ON  EFFECTUAL  CALLING,  (continued,) 362 

LECTURE    XVII. 
ON  JUSTIFICATION, 380 

LECTURE    XVIII. 
ON  JUSTIFICATION,  (continued,) 396 

LECTURE    XIX. 
ON  THE  PRAYER  OF  FAITH, 408 

LECTURE    XX. 
ON  THE  PRAYER  OF  FAITH,  (continued,) 423 

LECTURE    XXI. 
ON  APOSTACY, 452 

LECTURE    XXII. 
ON  ABILITY  AND  INABILITY, 476 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH. 


CHAPTER  I. 


FROM  HIS  BIRTH  TO  HIS  LICENSE  TO  PREACH  THE  GOSPEL, 

SAMUEL  RICHARDS,  a  youth  of  eighteen  years,  came  to 
this  country  from  Wales,  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne. 
He  served,  for  a  time,  in  the  British  service  in  Canada 
against  the  French,  and  afterwards  went  to  Connecticut, 
and  settled  in  Middlesex  parish,  near  Stamford  in  that 
State.  In  the  line  of  his  descendants,  JAMES  RICHARDS, 
the  subject  of  the  following  sketch,  was  of  the  fourth 
generation,  being  the  son  of  James,  who  was  the  son  of 
James,  who  was  the  son  of  Samuel.  He  was  born  in 
New  Canaan,  Connecticut,  October  29,  1767 ;  and  was 
the  eldest  of  nine  children,  four  of  whom— two  sons  and 
two  daughters — yet  remain.  His  father  was  a  farmer,  a 
man  of  good  sense,  and  esteemed  for  his  social  and 
Christian  virtues.  His  mother,  RUTH  HANFORD,  was 
"  a  mother  in  Israel."  She  was  a  woman  of  vigorous 
intellect,  of  consistent  piety,  and  of  uncompromising 
faithfulness  in  all  matters  of  social  duty.  As  a  mother, 
she  partook  largely  of  the  spirit  of  the  age  in  which  she 
lived.  It  was  a  day  of  household  subjection.  Children 
1 


10  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

loved  their  parents  not  less,  and  feared  them  much  more 
than  at  the  present  time.  Such  a  child  was  James  Rich- 
ards. He  learned  obedience  to  his  parents.  He  was 
accustomed  to  say,  that  his  mother  governed  her  family  with 
her  eye  and  fore-finger.  He  cherished  her  memory  with 
great  affection,  and  regarded  his  own  success  and  use- 
fulness in  the  world  as  owing  much,  under  God,  to  her 
pious  counsels,  and  wise  administration  of  domestic 
law. 

In  his  early  childhood  and  youth  he  was  subject  to 
much  bodily  weakness.  Severe  physical  effort  he  was  not 
able  to  endure ;  and  even  mental  application,  when  in- 
dulged except  in  a  very  moderate  measure,  seemed  too 
much  for  his  frail  body.  His  fondness  for  books,  however, 
together  with  his  facility  of  acquiring  knowledge,  and 
his  native  perseverance,  gave  him  an  advantage  over  his 
equals  in  age,  in  point  of  mental  acquirement,  which 
furnished  an  offset  to  their  physical  superiority.  He  was 
accustomed  to  accomplish  what  he  undertook,  if  within 
the  range  of  his  ability.  When  about  five  years  old,  at  the 
instance  of  his  teacher,  he  committed  the  second  chapter 
of  the  second  book  of  Samuel,  during  the  time  from  Satur- 
day evening  to  Monday  morning.  In  bringing  this  difficult 
chapter,  consisting  of  32  verses,  under  the  control  of  his 
memory,  he  studied  it  by  day,  and  repeated  it  in  his  bed 
during  the  night.  His  brother,  now  residing  in  the  city 
of  New  York,  says  :  "  My  mother  often  pointed  those  of 
us  that  were  younger  to  the  early  achievements  of  our 
brother  James,  as  an  encouragement  to  our  efforts  in  the 
early  pursuit  of  knowledge."  His  fondness  for  study 
and  mental  activity,  may  also  be  inferred  from  the  fact 
that  he-taught  a  common  district  school  when  but  thirteen 
years  of  age,  and  with  so  much  success  as  to  secure  him 
the  same  position  during  the  succeeding  winter. 

These  early  efforts  as  a  teacher  seem  to  have  revived 
a  desire  previously  cherished,  to  secure  a  public  educa- 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


11 


tion.  In  alluding  to  them  in  after  life,  he  says  :  "  They 
gave  an  impulse  to  my  faculties."  They  awakened 
anxiety  for  knowledge,  by  investing  him  with  the  respon- 
sibility of  imparting  it  to  others.  His  father,  however, 
was  not  prepared  to  indulge  him  with  any  means  of 
mental  acquisition  beyond  those  which  were  furnished  by 
the  common  district  school ;  and,  therefore,  the  idea  of 
a  public  education  was  suspended,  if  not  abandoned. 

Yet  it  was  his  purpose  to  do  something.  "At  the 
close  of  his  second  term  in  teaching/3  says  his  sister, 
"  and  when  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  he  said  to  his 
parents,  '  It  is  time  for  me  to  turn  my  attention  to  some 
calling  for  life.'  His  father  gave  him  leave  to  seek  such 
useful  trade  as  would  suit  his  feelings.  He  immediately 
made  his  preparations  to  go.  He  went,  not  knowing 
where  he  should  stop ;  and  my  mother  wept  as  he  took 
his  leave.5' 

In  pursuance  of  his  object,  he  first  went  to  Newtown, 
a  place  twenty-five  miles  distant  from  New  Canaan,  and 
engaged  as  an  apprentice  in  the  business  of  cabinet  and 
chair  making,  together  with  house  painting.  Here  he 
was  soon  taken  sick,  and  returned  to  his  father's  house 
to  remain  several  months.  Subsequently  he  went  to 
Danbury,  and  lastly  to  Stamford,  wxhere  his  labors  as  a 
mechanic  were  brought  to  a  close.  He  often  spoke  of 
spending  also  a  short  time  in  the  city  of  New  York,  in 
a  cabinet  shop  in  that  city,  and  especially  of  the  dangers 
that  beset  his  path  in  that  great  and  guilty  metropolis. 

When  eight  years  old,  he  was  the  subject  of  marked 
religious  impressions ;  and  at  the  age  of  eleven  some  of 
his  friends,  for  a  time,  indulged  the  hope  that  he  had 
passed  from  death  unto  life.  These  religious  promises, 
however,  proved  but  the  "  morning  cloud  and  early 
dew,"  which  soon  disappear.  But  in  1786,  when  in  the 
nineteenth  year  of  his  age,  the  Gospel  came  to  his  soul 
as  the  "  power  of  God  unto  salvation."  The  circum- 


12  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

stances  of  his  conversion,  as  gathered  from  the  testimony 
of  a  surviving  brother,  were  substantially  as  follows.  A 
large  number  of  youth  in  Stamford  were  assembled  to 
pass  the  evening  in  youthful  merriment  and  pleasure. 
To  augment  the  glee  of  the  occasion,  young  Richards, 
with  some  others,  entered  the  assembly  in  disguise,  and 
proceeded  to  other  acts  of  unaccustomed  levity.  But 
what  was  meant  for  mirth  became  the  occasion  of  convic- 
tion of  sin.  His  soul  was  filled  with  arrows  from  the 
quiver  of  the  Almighty,  and  his  wounds  could  not  be 
healed  nor  peace  restored  until  application  was  made  to 
the  Physician  in  Gilead.  He  remained  several  days  in 
great  distress ;  until  at  length,  in  connection  with  read- 
ing the  thirty-eighth  Psalm  by  Watts,  the  "burden" 
which  he  could  not  "  bear  "  was  removed  by  a  foreign 
hand,  and  the  "  guilt "  which  he  could  not  "  atone  "  was 
cleansed  by  the  blood  of  Christ.  (See  Psalm  38.) 

In  speaking  of  his  feelings  previous  to  his  conversion, 
and  in  connection  with  it,  he  once  said  in  substance  as 
follows,  to  one  of  his  classes  in  the  lecture-room  in  the 
Theologfeal  Seminary  at  Auburn  : 

"  I  had  long  cherished  the  idea  that  I  could  be  converted  when 
I  pleased,  that  faith  preceded  conversion,  and  that  by  exercising 
it  I  should  lay  God  under  obligation  to  give  me  a  new  heart.  The 
time  for  the  experiment  at  last  came.  My  sins  found  me  out,  and 
I  attempted  to  believe  according  to  my  cherished  notions  of  faith, 
and  thus  induce  God  to  give  me  the  grace  of  regeneration.  For 
several  days  I  struggled,  and  struggled  in  vain.  I  began  to  see 
my  own  impotency,  and  consequently  my  dependence  on  the 
sovereign  interposition  of  God  ;  and  the  more  I  saw,  the  more  I 
hated.  I  became  alarmed  in  view  of  my  enmity,  and  began  to 
feel  that  I  had  passed  beyond  my  day  of  grace,  and  was  rapidly 
sinking  to  hell.  But  at  length  my  soul  melted,  and  the  method 
of  salvation  I  had  hated  became  my  joy  and  my  song."  In  ac- 
cordance with  the  foregoing,  he  was  accustomed  more  familiarly 
to  say,  "  I  was  born  an  Arminian,  and  lived  an  Arminian ;  but 
obstinate  freewiller  as  I  was,  at  length,  by  sovereign  power  and 


BIOGRAPHICAL     SKETCH.  }£ 

mercy,  I  was  brought  to  lick  the  dust  of  God's  footstool,  and  accept 
of  salvation  by  grace." 

His  hopeful  conversion  was  soon  followed  by  an  open 
confession  of  Christ,  not  only  in  the  act  of  entering  into 
covenant  with  the  Church,  but  in  his  daily  conversation 
and  intercourse  with  the  world.  He  united  with  the 
Congregational  church  in  Stamford  on  the  17th  Septem- 
ber, 1786.  His  conversion  and  subsequent  zeal  in  the 
service  of  God  created  much  sensation  among  the  peo- 
ple. It  was  a  day  when  revivals  were  few — and  when 
religion,  especially  among  the  young,  was  suffering  gene- 
ral neglect.  Even  many  good  men,  in  their  remem- 
brance of  the  extravagances  of  Davenport  and  others, 
and  the  evils  connected  with  them,  and  dreading  the 
return  to  Zion  of  such  calamities,  were  themselves  al- 
most suspicious  of  any  unwonted  exhibition  of  zeal  in 
the  promotion  of  religion.  Hence,  when  the  subject  of 
this  sketch,  in  the  days  of  his  first  love  to  Christ,  began 
to  speak  in  meetings  for  conference  and  prayer,  and  tell 
what  Christ  had  done  for  him,  occasion  was  taken  for 
much  remark.  Some  doubted ;  some  were  anxious  as 
to  whereunto  these  things  would  grow ;  others,  like  the 
mother  of  Jesus,  "  kept  all  these  sayings  in "  their 
hearts. 

He  had  no  sooner  become  satisfied  of  his  acceptance 
with  God  through  Christ,  than  a  desire  for  the  "  office  of 
a  bishop  "  sprung  up  in  his  soul ;  and  this  desire,  under 
the  advice  of  his  pastor  and  other  Christian  friends,  soon 
grew  into  a  purpose  to  prepare  himself  for  that  "  good 
work." 

His  master,  to  whom  he  was  indented,  convinced  that 
he  would  not  pursue  his  trade  beyond  the  period  of  his 
indenture,  should  he  be  held  to  its  fulfillment,  and  know- 
ing his  desire  to  enter  upon  a  course  of  study,  kindly 
released  him  from  his  obligations.  His  return  to  New 


14  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

Canaan  with  a  new  character,  and  a  new  purpose  for 
life,  subjected  him  to  prejudice  and  embarrassment, 
which  often  fall  to  the  lot  "  of  a  prophet  in  his  own 
country."  Some,  indeed,  blessed  God  for  the  change ; 
but  others  were  unbelieving,  and  marveled  that  a  young 
dependent  mechanic,  whose  mother  and  sisters  were  with 
them,  should  conceive  the  purpose  of  becoming  a  minis- 
ter of  the  Gospel.  His  coming  among  his  "  own  people," 
however,  made  a  favorable  impression  upon  the  minds  of 
some,  both  in  and  out  of  the  Church.  His  brother,  now 
of  Westport,  Ct.,  says  :  "  When  James  returned  home  I 
was  thoughtless  and  careless,  as  most  young  people  were 
at  that  time.  But  his  warnings  and  admonitions  made 
an  impression  upon  my  mind  which  I  could  not  shake 
off.  I  have  ever  regarded  his  pious  influence  at  that 
time,  as  the  chief  instrumentality  in  bringing  me  to  a 
knowledge  of  Christ." 

There  were  those,  also,  who  welcomed  him  as  a  helper 
in  sustaining  "  the  things  which  were  ready  to  die  "  in 
the  Church  of  God.  Weekly  religious  meetings,  which 
had  long  been  suspended,  were  appointed  at  his  earnest 
solicitation,  and  aided  by  such  gifts  as  God  had  com- 
mitted to  his  trust.  His  course  of  study  preparatory  to 
college  was  commenced  under  the  direction  of  the  Rev. 
Justus  Mitchel,  then  pastor  in  New  Canaan.  Inspired 
with  a  love  of  study,  and  a  desire  for  "  the  office  of  a 
bishop" — now  anticipated  with  all  the  freshness  and 
power  of  his  "  first  love" — he  gave  himself  to  his  books 
with  great  zeal  and  energy.  After  the  lapse  of  a  few 
months,  however,  he  was  interrupted  by  sickness — a 
form  of  embarrassment  with  which  he  became  very  fa- 
miliar in  the  progress  of  his  studies.  This  attack  was 
followed  by  an  extreme  weakness  of  his  eyes,  which 
deprived  him  of  their  use  for  several  months.  In  this 
emergency  he  contrived  to  make  some  progress  in  his 
course  of  study,  by  availing  himself  of  the  aid  of  his 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  }5 

youngest  sister,  who  daily  read  in  his  hearing  such  les- 
sons as  he  might  direct. 

His  preparations  for  college  were  completed  under  the 
instructions  of  Dr.  Burnett,  of  Norwalk,  to  which  place 
he  was  invited  by  two  female  relatives — Sarah  and  Phebe 
Comstock — who  proposed  to  give  him  his  board,  and 
render  him  other  aid  according  to  their  ability.  These 
excellent  females  continued  to  show  him  favor  through 
his  course  of  study,  and  their  great  kindness  was  held 
in  grateful  remembrance. 

In  the  autumn  of  1789  he  entered  Yale  College ;  but 
owing  to  his  failure  in  availing  himself  of  a  foundation  by 
which  to  meet  his  current  expenses,  he  was  obliged  to 
leave  at  the  close  of  the  freshman  year  and  return  to  his 
friends.  From  this  time  he  abandoned  the  expectation 
of  a  regular  and  liberal  course  of  study,  and  determined 
to  make  the  most  of  such  private  advantages  as  might 
lie  within  his  reach.  He  returned  to  his  old  friend,  Dr. 
Burnett,  of  Norwalk,  to  enjoy  again  his  excellent  instruc- 
tions, together  with  the  kind  hospitalities  and  aid  of  the 
female  relatives  to  whom  we  have  alluded. 

While  here,  his  studies  were  again  interrupted  by  the 
invasion  of  dangerous  and  protracted  sickness.  He  was 
carried  to  New  Canaan,  where  for  the  space  of  several 
weeks  his  extreme  weakness  forbade  articulation,  and 
he  seemed  one  of  the  dead  rather  than  of  the  living.  He 
regarded  this  illness  as  peculiarly  profitable  to  his  spiritual 
interests,  and  his  restoration  to  health  as  one  of  the  most 
striking  interpositions  of  a  gracious  Providence  connected 
with  his  whole  life.  In  alluding  to  his  recovery,  he  often 
spoke  of  the  affectionate  care  of  a  sister  next  younger 
than  himself,  whom  he  regarded  as  the  chief  instrument, 
under  God,  of  preventing  his  going  down  to  the  grave. 
This  sister  watched  by  his  bedside,  anticipated  his  wants, 
administered  medicine,  and,  like  Miriam,  the  sister  of 
the  infant  Moses,  waited  anxiously  "  to  wit  what  would 


1$  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

be  done  to"  her  brother.  As  his  case  became  more 
hopeful,  and  his  strength  would  permit,  she  bore  him  in 
her  arms,  or  placing  him  in  an  easy  chair  drew  him  both 
in  doors  and  in  the  open  air,  or  indulged  him  in  the 
grateful  exercise  of  the  family  swing,  as  though  he  were 
but  a  child,  and  as  if  her  own  life  wrere  bound  up  in  his. 
Faithful  sister !  surely  thou  hast  not  lost  the  reward  of 
thine  affectionate  care  and  patient  toil.  After  the  lapse 
of  several  months  his  health  was  restored,  and  he  re- 
turned to  Norwalk  and  engaged  in  study. 

In  1791  he  went  to  Farmington  and  spent  a  few 
months  in  teaching,  and  also  availed  himself  of  such 
opportunity  to  pursue  his  studies  as  was  consistent  with 
other  duties.  From  this  place  he  went  to  Greenfield, 
where  he  availed  himself  of  the  tuition  of  Dr.  D wight, 
until  he  applied  for  license  to  preach  the  Gospel. 

It  may  be  proper  to  remark  in  this  place,  that  though 
the  subject  of  this  sketch  must  have  suffered  loss  in 
many  respects  by  his  interruption  in  a  college  course  of 
study,  still,  to  the  honor  of  his  teachers,  it  ought  to  be 
said  that  no  advantages,  except  those  of  a  well-regulated 
college,  could  have  surpassed  those  which  were  furnished 
under  their  instruction.  Their  grateful  pupil  often  spoke 
with  much  interest  of  the  great  excellence  of  Dr.  Bur- 
nett as  a  teacher ;  and  it  is  well  known  that  the  school 
on  "  Greenfield  Hill,"  under  Dr.  Dwight,  was  one  of 
"  unexampled  reputation."  Nor  did  young  Richards  fail 
to  make  the  most  faithful  use  of  the  means  of  knowledge 
thus  furnished.  He  studied  with  great  diligence,  and 
his  attainments  are  sufficiently  shown  by  the  fact  that  in 
1794,  at  the  instance  of  Dr.  Dwight,  he  received  the 
degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts  from  the  corporation  of  Yale 
College. 


CHAPTER    II. 


FROM  HIS  LICENSE  TO  THE  CLOSE  OF  HIS  MINISTRY  AT  MORRISTOWN. 

IN  1793  he  made  application  to  the  Association  in  the 
Western  District  of  Fairfield  Co.,  and  was  licensed  by  a 
Committee  of  that  body  to  preach  the  Gospel.  The 
Rev.  Dr.  Burnett,  of  Norwalk,  with  whom  he  had 
studied,  claimed  for  his  own  pulpit  the  first  sermon  of 
his  young  friend  and  pupil,  and  compliance  with  the 
claim  was  yielded  "in  weakness  and  in  fear,  and  in 
much  trembling  "  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Richards.  He  sup- 
plied, for  a  few  sabbaths,  the  church  in  Wilton,  a  neigh- 
boring town,  and  then  went  to  Ballston,  New  York,  and 
preached  on  a  short  engagement.  The  following  cove- 
nant and  resolutions  are  found  among  his  papers,  dated 
at  Ballston,  Dec.  22,  1793  : 

"  I  do  now,  in  the  presence  of  God  and  his  holy  angels,  sol- 
emnly avouch  the  Lord  Jehovah,  Father,  Son  and  Holy  Ghost, 
to  be  my  God,  and  promise,  by  the  help  of  his  Holy  Spirit,  with- 
out which  I  can  do  nothing,  to  devote  myself  to  him  in  an  ever- 
lasting covenant,  never  to  be  forgotten.  As  the  chief  of  sinners,  I 
resolve  to  look  up  to  God  for  pardon  and  acceptance,  through  the 
blood  of  his  dear  Son,  and  to  rest  my  soul  on  the  gracious  promises 
of  the  Gospel ;  determining  to  renounce  sin  in  all  its  appearances, 
I  resolve  to  consecrate  my  time,  talents,  and  all  that  I  have  on 
earth,  to  the  service  of  God,  promising  to  make  his  glory  the  ulti- 
mate end  of  all  my  actions.  It  is  my  resolution  to  be  more  watch- 
ful and  prayerful  than  I  have  hitherto  been  ;  to  see  that  my  thoughts 
are  employed  on  proper  subjects,  and  in  their  proper  times ;  to 
guard  against  all  rash  and  heedless  words,  all  severe  and  unjusti- 
fiable remarks  on  the  persons  and  character  of  other  men  ;  taking 
heed  to  the  door  of  my  lips,  that  I  offend  not  with  my  tongue. 


18  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

"  I  resolve  that  I  will  not  suffer  my  passions  to  take  the  place  of 
my  reason,  but  will  subject  them  to  the  laws  of  God  and  religion. 
Never  to  be  <  angry  without  a  cause,'  nor  to  indulge  that  kind  of 
anger  which  is  incompatible  with  disinterested  love  to  my  neigh- 
bor. I  resolve,  moreover,  to  be  faithful  in  all  the  relative  duties 
incumbent  on  me,  and  particularly  in  the  discharge  of  the  duties 
a  Gospel  minister — preaching  the  Word  of  God  in  all  its  purity 
and  extent,  and  serving  the  Lord  with  all  humility  and  patience, 
that  by  meekness,  gentleness,  and  love  unfeigned,  I  may  win 
others  to  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 

cc  Remember,  O  my  Soul,  these  resolutions  and  the  vows  of  God 
which  are  upon  thee.  Thou  canst  not  violate  them  without  incur- 
ring the  displeasure  of  the  best  of  beings,  the  best  of  fathers,  and 
the  most  faithful  of  friends ;  nor  without  injuring  thy  best  and 
dearest  interests.  Strengthen  me,  0  Lord,  I  beseech  thee,  and 
confirm  the  resolution  of  thy  servant.  Keep  me  by  thy  mighty 
power  from  sinning  against  thee,  and  preserve  me  spotless  unto 
thy  heavenly  kingdom.  Amen." 

Soon  after  the  date  of  the  foregoing  resolutions,  Mr. 
Richards  went  to  Long  Island,  and  entered  into  an  en- 
gagement to  preach  to  two  small  congregations  ;  one  at 
Sag  Harbor  and  the  other  at  Shelter  Island. 

The  following  grateful  tribute  to  his  memory  as  a  minis- 
ter at  Sag  Harbor,  is  found  in  "  The  History  of  Long  Isl- 
and," by  the  Rev.  N.  S.  Prime  :  "  The  late  Rev.  James 
Richards,  D.  D. — a  name  loved  and  revered  throughout  the 
Church — made  some  of  his  first  essays  in  this  place  to 
preach  the  Gospel.  And  though  he  was  here  but  a  short 
time,  his  labors  of  love  were  highly  appreciated  by  a  pious 
few ;  the  most  of  whom  have  already  hailed  him  as  the 
helper  of  their  faith,  and  are  now  rejoicing  with  him  in 
a  brighter  world.  There  was  one  precious  saint,  long 
since  gone  to  her  rest,  whom  the  writer  has  often  heard 
speak  of  the  satisfaction  and  benefit  which  she  derived 
from  the  labors  of  that  youthful  servant  of  Christ,  not 
only  in  the  pulpit,  but  at  the  domestic  fireside ;  and  the 
name  of  'Richards'  was  music  in  her  ears  to  her  dying 
day." 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  ig 

In  May,  1794,  he  was  invited  to  visit  the  church  and 
congregation  in  Morristown,  N.  J.,  as  a  candidate  for  the 
pastoral  office  ;  which  invitation  he  accepted,  and  agreed 
to  visit  that  people  at  the  expiration  of  his  existing  en- 
gagements. This  arrangement  was  made  under  the 
advice  of  Dr.  Buel,  of  East  Hampton,  and  his  son-in-law 
the  Rev.  Aaron  Woolworth,  of  Bridgehampton.  Dr.  Buel 
had  long  been  acquainted  with  the  character  of  the  con- 
gregation now  vacant,  and  his  own  mind  and  that  of  his 
son-in-law  were  favorably  impressed  as  to  the  ministe- 
rial character  and  promise  of  Mr.  Richards. 

In  a  letter  written  to  Rev.  Dr.  Johnes,  the  old  friend 
and  pastor  of  the  church  in  Morristown,  while  the  ques- 
tion of  the  young  candidate's  settlement  was  pending, 
Dr.  Buel  uses  the  following  language  :  "  The  man  who, 
on  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  James  Richards,  does 
not  love  him,  cannot  himself  be  deserving  the  love  of 
any  man." 

He  entered  upon  his  labors  in  Morristown  in  the 
month  of  June,  1794 ;  and  in  September  following  re- 
ceived a  call  to  take  the  pastoral  charge  of  the  congre- 
gation. 

In  November  of  this  year  he  was  married  to  Caroline, 
daughter  of  James  Cowles,  of  Farmington,  Connecticut. 

His  ordination  to  the  work  of  the  Gospel  ministry,  and 
the  consummation  of  his  pastoral  relations  took  place  on 
the  1st  of  May,  1797,  "  at  a  stated  meeting  of  what  was 
then  called  the  Presbytery  of  New  York." 

The  charge  now  committed  to  the  hands  of  Mr.  Rich- 
ards, was  one  of  great  responsibility.  The  congregation 
was  large,  comprising  much  intelligence,  and  withal  af- 
flicted with  divisions  of  sentiment  and  feeling,  which  had 
grown  out  of  their  relations  to  a  former  minister — who 
was  a  colleague  of  Dr.  Johnes.  For  a  just  view  of  the 
responsibility  of  the  new  pastor,  together  with  the  char- 
acter and  influence  of  his  ministry  in  Morristown  we 


20  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

may  refer  the  reader  to  the  following  extracts.  In  a 
letter  to  Lewis  Condit,  Esq.,  in  which  he  alludes  to  the 
state  of  things  when  he  took  the  pastoral  charge  of  the 
people  of  Morristown,  he  says : 

"  Nov.  26,  1840.— They  [your  fathers]  differed  greatly  in  opin- 
ion, and  for  a  time  were  strongly  opposed  to  each  other  in  feeling, 
but  they  judged  it  best  not  to  divide  but  to  make  sacrifices,  and 
endeavor  to  harmonize.  Their  endeavors  were  successful — they 
were  harmonized — peace  and  brotherly  love  became  the  order  of 
the  day  ;  and,  with  some  slight  exceptions,  have  marked  the  course 
of  things  in  the  congregation  for  almost  half  a  century." 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  to  his  youngest 
son  now  in  the  ministry,  shows  the  extent  of  the  field 
which  he  occupied,  and  the  amount  and  kind  of  labors 
demanded  and  bestowed. 

"  In  this  great  congregation  I  had  the  sick  and  afflicted  to  visit, 
the  dead  to  bury,  the  wandering  to  look  after,  the  captious  and 
uneasy  to  soothe,  besides  schools  to  catechise  and  lectures  to  preach 
and  prayer-meetings  to  attend  ;  altogether  creating  a  vast  amount 
of  labor,  independent  of  regular  family  visitations  and  preparing 
for  the  pulpit.  Not  a  little  time  was  consumed  in  occasional  calls 
upon  my  people  and  their  calls  upon  me.  The  result  of  all  this 
was,  I  was  like  a  man  in  harvest — always  pressed  with  engage- 
ments, and  with  more  than  I  could  fairly  meet.  It  became  neces- 
sary, therefore,  to  make  a  selection  among  the  calls  of  duty,  and 
attend  to  those  first  which  were  of  the  most  urgent  character, 
leaving  others  to  the  dubiousness  of  an  hereafter.  ***** 
I  endeavored  to  derive  advantage  from  the  various  occurrences  of 
Divine  Providence  ;  from  the  teachings  of  God's  Word,  and  from 
my  constant  intercourse  with  the  most  spiritual  and  devoted  among 
my  people.  This  last  circumstance  was  not  only  a  matter  of 
special  comfort,  but  of  profit  to  my  soul.  I  felt  myself  instructed 
and  invigorated  often  from  conversing  freely  with  some  of  my 
plainest  people  on  the  subject  of  experimental  religion." 

The  following  is  from  the  pen  of  Lewis  Condit,  Esq.,  to 
whom  we  have  before  alluded : 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  21 

"  May,  1845. — The  general  character  of  Mr.  Richard's  ministry 
was  consistent,  uniform,  and  worthy  of  imitation.  He  seemed  to  live, 
and  at  all  times  to  act,  as  under  the  impression  that  his  great  and 
leading  duty  was  to  preach  the  Gospel  of  Christ — to  instruct  his 
people  faithfully  in  its  essential  doctrines  and  truths,  and  per- 
suade them  to  obey  its  precepts  and  imitate  the  life  of  its  Divine 
Author.  *  *  As  a  teacher  and  a  pastor,  he  enjoyed  the  entire 
confidence,  respect,  and  affection  of  his  whole  flock." 

While  thus  living  in  the  hearts  of  his  people  he  also 
increased  in  the  confidence  and  esteem  of  the  Chris- 
tian public.  He  was  favorably  known,  both  in  the  halls 
of  Science,  and  in  the  judicatories  of  the  Church  of 
God.  In  the  year  1801  he  received  the  degree  of  Mas- 
ter of  Arts  from  the  corporation  of  the  College  of  Prince- 
ton, in  his  own  State,  and  in  1805  he  was  duly  elected 
Moderator  of  the  General  Assembly  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church — a  position,  we  believe,  rarely  occupied  by  a 
man  of  thirty-seven.  To  these  distinctions  were  also 
added  others — others  of  more  worth  to  the  heart  of  a 
Christian  pastor.  Within  two  years  from  his  installation, 
God  poured  out  his  Spirit,  and  more  than  one  hundred 
souls  bowed  professedly  to  Jesus,  and  united  with  the 
Church.  A  second  revival  in  1803  and  1804,  and  a  third 
in  1808,  crowned  his  labors  also  with  the  increase  that 
cometh  from  God. 

The  character  and  influence  of  these  seasons  of  reli- 
gious interest  may  be  best  learned  from  a  letter  written 
by  the  subject  of  this  sketch  to  the  Rev.  Albert  Barnes, 
and  dated  January  9th,  1828. 

"  During  my  ministry  at  Morristown,  there  were  three  sea- 
sons of  special  attention  to  religion,  the  first  and  last  of  which 
were  the  most  considerable.  The  first  was  remarkable,  chiefly, 
from  this  circumstance,  that  it  came  upon  the  congregation  by 
surprise.  None  of  the  church  members,  that  ever  I  could  learn, 
were  specially  stirred  up  to  desire  or  expect  it.  Of  course,  the 
Church  appeared  full  of  unbelief,  when  it  was  announced  that  the 


22  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

Lord  was  in  the  midst  of  us,  of  a  truth.  Even  those  who,  from 
their  exemplary  character,  might  have  been  expected  to  be  wait- 
ing for  the  consolation  of  Israel,  were  manifestly  unprepared  for 
this  sovereign  act  of  Divine  mercy.  But,  prepared  or  unprepared, 
the  windows  of  heaven  were  opened,  and  the  spiritual  rain  de- 
scended, and  about  one  hundred  souls  were  hopefully  brought  into 
the  kingdom,  as  the  fruit  and  effect  of  this  refreshing.  They  did 
not  all  join  the  church  at  once,  but  principally  in  the  course  of 
that  and  the  following  year. 

"  The  second  revival,  in  1803,  was  much  more  local  in  its  ope- 
rations, and  by  no  means  characterized  with  the  same  power.  It 
excited  considerable  attention  in  the  congregation,  and  served  to 
draw  forth  the  prayers  and  exertions  of  Christians  ;  but  still  it  was 
confined  chiefly  to  one  or  two  neighborhoods. 

"  The  third  and  last  of  these  interesting  seasons,  I  always 
regarded  as  the  most  precious ;  not  because  it  seemed  to  take  a 
wider  sweep,  but  because,  as  far  as  it  went,  it  appeared  to  be  more 
deep  and  effective,  and  exerted  a  more  benign  influence  on  the 
church.  This  revival  was  evidently  preceded  by  a  spirit  of  prayer. 
To  my  latest  breath,  I  shall  remember  how  some  of  the  dear  people 
of  God  appeared  to  feel  and  agonize,  in  their  supplications  before 
the  Lord,  when  imploring  his  gracious  presence  in  the  midst  of  us. 
Through  the  whole  of  the  preceding  winter,  there  had  been  some 
feeling  and  some  expectancy  in  the  church  on  this  subject,  occa- 
sioned, perhaps,  by  the  revivals  which  had  occurred,  and  were  then 
occurring,  in  some  of  the  neighboring  congregations.  But  the 
church  seemed  to  calculate  that  this  good  work  would  go  from 
congregation  to  congregation,  as  a  matter  of  course.  When,  how- 
ever, they  saw  that  the  cloud  of  God's  presence  had  come  to  our 
very  borders,  on  two  sides  of  us,  and  was  stayed,  they  began  to 
tremble,  to  feel  their  dependence,  and  to  cry  mightily  unto  God, 
that  he  would  not  utterly  refuse  to  bless  us.  The  blessing  came, 
and  sealed,  not  a  few,  I  trust,  unto  the  day  of  redemption.  Be- 
tween seventy  and  eighty  were  added  to  the  church,  in  that  and 
the  subsequent  year,  who  'dated  their  conversion  from  this  interest- 
ing period.  I  will  only  add,  that  on  inquiring  of  my  brethren  who 
succeeded  me  in  this  charge,  I  was  uniformly  told  that  the  mem- 
bers gathered  during  this  revival,  had  been  peculiarly  circumspect, 
and  very  few  of  them  subjected  to  any  church  censure. 

"  As  to  means  employed,  either  in  the  commencement  or  pro- 
gress of  these  revivals,  I  can  say  nothing ;  except  that  the  Gospel 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  23 

was  preached  as  plainly  and  faithfully  as  I  was  able,  and  that 
publicly,  and  from  house  to  house.  Prayer-meetings,  anxious- 
meetings,  or  conferences,  were  found  to  be  of  special  service  in 
promoting  the  good  work." 


In  1809,  Mr.  Richards  received  and  accepted  a  call 
from  the  First  Presbyterian  Church  in  Newark,  to  become 
their  pastor.  The  causes  which  led  to  the  dissolution 
of  the  connection  between  him  and  the  congregation  at 
Morristown,  were  briefly  these  : 

For  several  years  his  salary  had  been  inadequate  to 
the  support  of  his  family,  and  he  had  been  obliged  to 
resort  to  other  means  to  meet  his  current  expenses. 
Among  other  expedients,  he  had  kept  several  boarders — 
an  expedient  which,  while  it  answered  the  end  designed, 
increased  the  domestic  cares  of  the  pastor,  whose  official 
responsibilities  were  well-nigh  overwhelming.  The  evil 
was  perceived,  and  deeply  felt.  Both  Mr.  Richards  and 
his  more  intimate  friends,  became  satisfied  that  such  a 
state  of  things  ought  not  to  be  continued.  Hence  it  was 
judged  best  that  the  salary  should  be  so  increased  as  to 
sustain  the  pastor,  independent  of  profits  arising  from  a 
boarding  establishment.  A  meeting  was  accordingly 
called,  at  which  statements  were  made  to  the  congrega- 
tion, setting  forth  the  revenues  and  expenditures  of  the 
pastor,  and  the  urgent  necessity  of  his  receiving  an  in- 
creased compensation.  The  people,  however,  were  not 
prepared  for  such  a  movement.  Some  were  slow  to  see 
the  necessity  of  an  increase  of  salary,  and  opposed  the 
effort ;  others  were  wavering ;  the  friends  of  the  mea- 
sure, though  many,  were  at  first  timid,  and  "  touched 
the  matter  with  great  delicacy  ;"  and  nothing  was  effec- 
tually done.  One  or  two  other  meetings,  called  for  the 
purpose  of  considering  the  question  of  augmenting  the 
salary,  came  substantially  to  the  same  result.  This  state 
of  things  in  the  congregation,  deeply  affected  the  deli- 


24  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

cate  sensibilities  of  Mr.  Richards.     He  thus  alludes  to 
it  in  a  letter,  written  afterwards  to  his  son  : 

"  When  in  the  summer  and  fall  of  1808,  (the  year  before  I 
went  to  Newark,)  my  people  refused  to  unite  in  an  augmentation 
of  my  salary,  though  many  were  earnestly  for  it,  I  found  it  grieved 
me,  and  many  things  connected  with  it  mortified  me  and  agitated 
me.  I  presently  discovered  that  I  was  getting  into  a  state  of  mind 
by  no  means  favorable  to  my  comfort  or  my  usefulness.  Instead, 
therefore,  of  dwelling  upon  the  subject,  and  especially  upon  the 
dark  side  of  the  picture,  I  resolved  to  give  myself  anew  to  the  du- 
ties of  my  ministry,  to  serve  God,  and  his  people  given  'me  in 
charge,  with  all  the  strength  I  had,  and  to  do  whatever  seemed 
proper  and  meet  to  be  done,  as  if  no  untoward  event  had  occurred. 

"  And  let  me  say,  I  found  great  comfort  in  this.  Though  my 
resolution  was  to  discharge  my  duty,  and  leave  the  event  with 
God,  yet  I  did  not  infer  that  I  was  not  at  liberty  to  watch  the  mov- 
ings  of  Providence,  and  avail  myself  of  any  opportunity  which 
should  present,  to  change  my  relations,  provided  such  change  ap- 
peared to  be  accompanied  with  the  indications  of  duty." 

In  the  mean  time  an  effectual  door  of  usefulness  was 
opening  in  Newark.  Dr.  Griffin,  the  pastor  of  the  First 
Presbyterian  Church  in  that  city,  had  been  invited  to  a 
professorship  in  the  Theological  Seminary  at  Andover, 
and,  as  was  supposed,  strongly  recommended  to  his  peo- 
ple Mr.  Richards  as  his  successor.  A  correspondence 
commenced,  in  which  the  most  earnest  appeals  were 
made  in  behalf  of  the  Newark  congregation.  To  the  al- 
ready afflicted  pastor,  these  appeals  were  occasion  of 
new  trials.  Though  he  had  supposed  it  right  to  watch 
the  movements  of  Providence,  and  thought  it  possible 
that  he  might  be  called  to  yield  his  present  relations, 
yet  he  dreaded  the  coming  of  the  day  when  they  should 
be  sundered.  His  present  pastoral  charge  was  the  ob- 
ject of  his  "  first  love."  He  knew  his  flock.  The  sheep 
and  the  lambs  he  could  call  by  their  respective  names. 
They  also  knew  his  voice,  and  had  been  wont  to  follow 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


25 


him.  And  a  people,  who  had  called  him  as  their  spiritual 
watchman  in  his  youth — who  had  laid  aside  their  ani- 
mosities to  sustain  him — who  had  taught  their  children 
to  reverence  him  as  a  father,  might  well  urge  a  strong 
claim  to  the  services  of  his  riper  years. 

Nor  was  there  any  attachment  on  the  part  of  the  peo- 
ple, which  was  not  reciprocated  by  the  pastor.  In  a  let- 
ter to  the  member  of  the  congregation,  already  alluded 
to,  and  written  but  a  short  time  before  his  death,  he 
says: 

"  Never  was  a  minister  more  happy  with  his  people  than 
I  with  mine,  during  the  fifteen  years  I  spent  among  you.  With 
you  I  was  willing  to  live,  and  with  you  I  expected  to  die." 

To  the  same,  in  another  letter,  he  writes : 

, 

"I  can  truly  say,  that  if  there  be  a  spot  on  earth  to  which 
my  mind  turns  with  more  than  ordinary  affection,  it  is  THAT  where 
I  was  ordained  to  the  work  of  the  Gospel  ministry,  and  took  upon 
myself  the  obligation  of  the  Christian  pastor.  I  loved  the  people 
that  called  me  to  this  work,  and  I  trust  I  loved  the  work  itself." 

The  reasons  for  a  change,  however,  seemed  more  and 
more  urgent.  The  increase  of  the  salary  was  postponed ; 
the  health  of  Mrs.  Richards  had  declined;  his  rising 
family  were  increasingly  expensive;  and  he  began  to 
entertain  the  impression  that  the  promise  of  his  useful- 
ness in  Morristown  was  diminished  by  the  excitement 
which  the  proposal  to  raise  the  salary  had  created. 

These  considerations  inclined  him  to  give  some  en- 
couragement to  the  congregation  in  Newark;  and  he 
intimated  that  should  they  extend  to  him  a  unanimous 
call,  it  would  receive  a  careful  consideration,  and  that 
he  should  "  acquiesce  in  what  seemed  to  be  the  leadings 
of  God's  providence."  Such  a  call  soon  came  into  his 
hands.  In  anticipation  of  it,  his  congregation  had  suc- 
ceeded in  voting  an  increase  of  salary ;  and  prior  to  thei 
2 


25  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

knowledge  of  his  acceptance,  they  set  forth  their  views 
and  feelings  in  two  formal  memorials  addressed  to  their 
pastor.  One  of  these  was  sent  from  a  meeting  of  seventy- 
one  ladies,  and  presented  by  the  hands  of  a  committee 
whose  names  are  appended  to  the  address.  It  is  a  docu- 
ment which  reflects  honor  both  upon  the  pastor,  and 
upon  those  who  sent  it.  It  reads  as  follows : 

"  DEAR  SIR: 

"  Having  lately  been  informed  that  you  contemplate  a  removal 
from  the  pastoral  charge  of  this  congregation,  we,  the  subscribers, 
in  behalf  of  ourselves  and  the  meeting  of  females  we  represent, 
feel  ourselves  constrained  to  express  to  you,  in  some  degree,  the 
deep  regret  and  anxiety  we  experience  on  the  occasion,  in  common 
with  all  classes  and  descriptions  of  persons  composing  this  nume- 
rous society.  The  attachment  we  feel  for  you  and  your  amiable 
family  is  not  founded  in  the  transient  acquaintance  of  a  day  or  a 
month.  A  period  of  fourteen  years  and  upwards,  spent  in  the 
most  friendly  interchange  of  kind  offices,  has  gradually  ripened 
and  matured  that  acquaintance  into  a  permanent  and  refined 
friendship.  As  the  faithful  shepherd  and  pastor  of  our  flock, 
words  fail  us  to  express  our  veneration  and  esteem  for  you.  Many 
of  us  have  grown  from  infancy  and  youth  into  active  life  during 
your  ministry  here,  and  through  the  instrumentality  of  your  public 
instructions,  friendly  admonitions  and  exemplary  life,  have  been 
enabled,  through  Divine  aid,  to  partake  of  the  rich  blessings  of 
that  Gospel  which  you  have  so  faithfully  preached.  *  *  * 
Others  of  us  have,  at  the  same  time,  been  declining  the  steep  of 
life,  and  now  stand  on  the  verge  of  eternity.  Most  of  our  attach- 
ments formed  in  youth  have  been  rent  in  sunder.  You  have  per- 
sonally witnessed,  in  many  instances,  the  parting  scene.  You 
have  accompanied  us  who  are  widows  and  mothers  to  the  grave 
of  many  a  beloved  husband  and  child.  You  have  mingled  your 
tears  with  ours,  and,  in  the  keenest  moments  of  anguish  and 
heart-rending  grief,  you  have  administered  to  us  the  only  consola- 
tion promised  in  the  Gospel  by  the  widow's  God. 

"  You  settled  among  us  in  the  work  of  the  ministry  while  we  were 
a  divided  people.  Happily  for  us  these  divisions  no  longer  exist, 
and  our  attachment  to  you  is  probably  much  strengthened,  consid- 
ering you  as  the  means  of  restoring  harmony  among  us.  You 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


27 


yourself  were  in  the  morning  of  life,  the  season,  of  all  others,  the 
best  adapted  for  forming  lasting  attachments.  Is  it  to  be  expected 
that  a  change  of  circumstances,  in  the  afternoon  of  life,  can  add 
much  to  the  share  of  happiness  which  is  perhaps  already  as  con- 
siderable as  usually  falls  to  the  lot  of  man  1 

"  If,  however,  after  due  consideration  of  the  solemn  ties  that  bind 
you  to  this  church,  a  removal  may  appear  to  you  a  duty,  and  you 
consider  it  as  a  mean  of  enlarging  your  own  sphere  of  comfort 
and  enjoyment,  perhaps  we  ought  to  acquiesce  in  the  separation, 
however  painful  it  may  be. 

a  Whether  you  leave  us  or  remain  with  us,  you  may  rest  assured 
of  our  prayers  for  a  blessing  on  your  labors,  and  our  best  wishes 
for  the  happiness  and  prosperity  of  yourself  and  family." 

But  these  remonstrances,  and  the  announcement  of 
the  vote  to  increase  the  salary  of  the  pastor,  came  too 
late.  The  encouragement  which  had  been  given  to  an- 
other congregation,  had  been  answered  in  a  unanimous 
call.  The  conditions  which  he  had  suggested  had  been 
met,  and  painful  as  was  the  thought  of  parting,  he  was 
not  the  man  to  say  and  not  do. 

The  foregoing  is  a  brief  outline  of  the  circumstances 
under  which  the  question  of  dissolving  the  pastoral  rela- 
tion came  before  the  Presbytery  of  Jersey.  The  con- 
gregation, in  parish  meeting,  after  a  painful  struggle, 
resolved  to  submit  the  whole  question  to  that  body. 
When  the  Presbytery  met  at  Elizabethtown,  April  26, 
1809,  a  member,  then  residing  at  Morristown,  after  an 
able  and  full  exposition  of  the  causes  which  had  induced 
the  pastor  to  ask  leave  to  resign  his  pastoral  charge,  and 
an  entire  justification  of  the  request,  concluded  in  the 
following  words  : 

"  As  an  inhabitant  of  Morristown,  no  one  has  more  serious  rea- 
sons to  regret  the  removal  of  Mr.  Richards,  than  myself: — Yet  his 
removal,  I  regard  rather  as  the  misfortune  than  the  fault  of  Mor- 
ristown ;  and  his  removal  to  Newark  as  an  event  brought  about 
rather  by  the  providence  of  God,  than  by  the  destination  of  man. 
I  shall,  therefore,  move  that  the  call  from  the  people  of  Newark 
be  put  into  his  hands." 


CHAPTER    III. 


HIS    MINISTRY     AT    NEWARK. 

His  call  to  Newark  was  received  in  April,  1809,  and 
he  removed  his  family  to  that  place  on  the  17th  of  May 
following.  On  the  28th  of  the  same  month,  Dr.  Griffin 
preached  his  farewell  sermon  to  his  congregation,  and 
the  responsibilities  of  the  pastoral  charge  were  left  with 
his  successor.  A  more  weighty  charge  or  more  delicate 
position  could  hardly  be  assumed.  Dr.  Griffin  was  then 
regarded  as  one  of  the  most  gifted  and  eloquent  ministers 
in  the  American  Church,  and  Newark  had  been  favored 
with  nearly  eight  years  of  the  most  vigorous  and  efficient 
portion  of  his  pastoral  life.  His  labors,  too,  had  been 
crowned  with  signal  success,  the  church  having  increased 
from  two  to  five  hundred  members  during  his  ministry. 
It  is  worthy  also  of  notice,  that  he  left  at  the  close  of  a 
revival,  to  which,  in  a  letter  written  to  Mr.  Richards,  he 
thus  alludes  :  "  I  was  there  in  the  harvest  time,  but  you 
came  in  the  fall  of  the  year ;"  intimating  the  disadvan- 
tage under  which  his  successor  entered  upon  his  pastoral 
charge. 

Mr.  Richards  felt  the  responsibility  of  his  position,  and 
resolved,  under  God,  to  make  full  proof  of  his  ministry. 
He  said  to  a  friend,  "  I  am  resolved  to  '  give  attendance 
to  reading ;'  I  must  study  now  if  ever."  He  did  study, 
and  he  also  "  gave  himself  to  prayer."  His  purpose  to 
magnify  his  office,  appeared  in  the  pulpit  and  in  the 
walks  of  pastoral  intercourse ;  and  the  attachment  of  the 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


29 


people  grew  with  his  growth,  and  strengthened  with  his 
strength. 

In  1811  the  congregation  under  his  care  judged  it  ex- 
pedient to  become  "  two  bands ;"  and,  accordingly,  an 
organization  was  effected  under  the  name  of  the  "  Sec- 
ond Presbyterian  Church  and  Congregation  of  New- 
ark," and  the  Rev.  Hooper  Cumming  was  constituted  the 
first  pastor.  This  whole  matter  received  both  the  ap- 
probation and  aid  of  Mr.  Richards ;  and  his  kind  regard 
for  the  spiritual  well-being  of  the  new  church  may  be 
learned  from  the  following  introduction  of  an  address 
delivered  by  him  at  the  time  of  its  organization : 

"  The  circumstances,  my  brethren,  in  which  you  are  assembled 
this  afternoon,  are  in  several  respects  novel  and  interesting.  After 
having  peaceably  withdrawn  from  your  former  connections, 
and  being  set  apart  as  a  distinct  congregation — after  erecting  a 
house  for  the  worship  of  God,  and  dedicating  it  to  his  service — 
after  calling  and  settling  a  minister,  who  is  to  go  in  and  out  before 
you  and  break  unto  you  the  bread  of  life — you  are  come  together 
to  complete  your  religious  privileges.  Those  of  you  who  have 
heretofore  been  professors  of  religion  are  to  organize  yourselves  as 
a  church  of  Christ,  by  giving  yourselves  to  one  another  and  to  the 
Lord.  Here  you  are  to  recognize  each  other  as  the  friends  of  Jesus 
— purchased  by  his  blood  and  sanctified  by  his  Spirit — the  joint  heirs 
with  him  to  an  eternal  inheritance.  How  tender,  how  solemn, 
how  important  is  the  relation  !  By  virtue  of  it  you  expect  often  to 
commune  with  each  other  at  the  table  of  the  Lord ;  and,  if  you 
are  not  deceived  in  your  hopes,  to  spend  an  eternity  together  in 
his  kingdom.  Formerly,  indeed,  you  were  the  constituent  mem- 
bers of  the  same  church,  but  your  circle  being  wider,  you  were  less 
known  to  each  other  than  you  will  hereafter  be.  You  must  now 
take  upon  you  those  cares  and  labors  which,  heretofore,  you  have 
shared  with  a  much  larger  number.  From  being  a  part  only  of  a 
particular  church,  you  will  now  become  a  distinct  church  your- 
selves, and  stand  in  the  number  of  those  golden  candlesticks  among 
whom  the  Divine  Redeemer  graciously  condescends  to  walk. 
What  occasion  will  you  have  to  rejoice,  if  he  will  condescend  to 
visit  you — if  he  will  crown  with  his  special  presence  and  blessing 


30  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

the  transactions  of  this  afternoon,  and  henceforth  dwell  in  your 
hearts  by  love.  Many  important  subjects  of  reflection  will  natu- 
rally present  themselves  to  your  minds  on  this  occasion,  but  I  can 
think  of  none  which  more  deservedly  merits  your  attention,  than 
these  words  :  "  Let  brotherly  love  continue."  Hitherto  you  have 
been  united  in  counsel,  and  united  in  affection.  Let  the  same 
spirit  continue  in  you  and  abound,  and  you  have  the  promise  that 
the  God  of  love  and  peace  shall  be  with  you." 

He  farther  spoke  on  this  occasion,  in  a  course  of  ex- 
tempore remarks,  on  the  subject  of  brotherly  love — a 
subject,  the  choice  of  which  may  be  regarded  as  the 
index  of  his  earnest  desire,  that  those  who  had  thus 
gone  out  from  his  immediate  pastoral  care,  might  become 
a  band  "  strong  in  the  Lord  and  by  the  power  of  his 
might." 

The  subsequent  history  of  this  new  organization  be- 
came the  occasion  of  showing,  in  a  strong  light,  the 
excellent  character  and  ministerial  worth  of  Mr.  Rich- 
ards. Things  which,  at  first,  seemed  hazardous  to  his 
position  and  usefulness,  operated,  in  the  providence 
of  God,  for  his  advancement.  One  occurrence,  which 
we  may  mention,  was  a  call  extended  to  his  illustrious 
predecessor  the  Rev.  Dr.  Griffin,  to  take  the  pastoral 
charge  of  the  new  congregation,  after  an  absence  of 
only  six  years.  Perhaps  in  most  cases,  the  return  of  a 
former  pastor  under  such  circumstances,  and  especially 
of  the  commanding  talents  and  great  worth  of  Dr.  Grif- 
fin, wrould  be  likely  to  render  the  position  of  his  succes- 
sor somewhat  unpleasant.  The  possibility  of  such  an 
influence  was  deprecated  by  some  of  the  people  in  New- 
ark, and  became  the  subject  of  frank  and  fraternal  cor- 
respondence between  Dr.  Griffin  and  Mr.  Richards,  pre- 
vious to  the  acceptance  of  the  call.  The  experiment, 
however,  was  made  ;  and  for  the  space  of  six  years  these 
devoted  men  labored  side  by  side,  with,, perhaps  equal 
honor  and  usefulness.  Each  pastor  had  points  in  which 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  3J 

he  excelled.  One,  perhaps,  in  the  "  gift  of  tongues  " 
and  in  "  prophecy ;  and  the  other  in  the  "  word  of  wis- 
dom "  and  "  discerning  of  spirits."  One  in  the  surpass- 
ing power  of  his  occasional  efforts,  and  the  other  in  the 
uniform  interest  of  his  ordinary  preaching ;  the  one  in 
success  in  gathering  the  lambs  into  the  fold,  the  other  in 
keeping  them  when  gathered.  Both  were  stars  of  the 
first  magnitude.  One  star,  it  may  be,  differed  from  the 
other  star  in  glory,  but  so  far  was  the  glory  of  the  one 
from  eclipsing  or  obscuring  the  glory  of  the  other,  that 
the  glory  of  each  was  the  more  glorious  by  the  conti- 
guity of  their  orbits,  and  the  close  comparative  estimate 
to  which  each  was  subjected.  And  if,  in  this  compari- 
son, the  name  of  Richards  suffers  not,  where  will  you 
look  to  find  "  the  glory  that  excelleth." 

While  at  Newark  Mr.  Richards  received  new  proofs 
of  the  confidence  of  the  Christian  public.  He  was  early 
elected  Trustee  of  the  College  of  New  Jersey,  and  held 
the  place  until  he  removed  from  the  State.  In  1812,  the 
year  in  which  the  Theological  Seminary  at  Princeton  was 
established,  he  was  appointed  a  Director  of  that  Institu- 
tion, and  served  in  that  capacity  with  great  acceptance 
while  he  remained  in  Newark.  In  Sept.  1814,  he  preached 
the  annual  sermon  before  the  American  Board  of  Commis- 
sioners for  Foreign  Missions.  The  appointment  places  his 
name  among  the  early  friends  of  modern  missions;  and  the 
sermon  evinces  enlarged  views  and  a  warm  heart  in  the 
work  of  evangelizing  the  world.  In  1815  he  received 
the  degree  of  DOCTOR  OF  DIVINITY  from  two  Colleges — 
Union  and  Yale — a  degree  which,  at  that  day,  was  an 
index,  both  of  professional  and  general  worth. 

His  name  is  also  found  in  connection  with  the  origin 
of  several  of  the  great  benevolent  institutions  of  the 
age.  The  American  Bible  Society,  whose  leaves,  for 
thirty  years,  have  gone  forth  for  the  healing  of  the  na- 
tions, owes  its  existence,  in  part,  to  his  efforts.  For 


32  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

several  years  he  served  as  the  Secretary  of  the  Presby- 
terian Education  Society,  and  perhaps  no  form  of  pious 
effort  more  powerfully  excited  the  sympathies  of  his 
heart,  or  secured  his  more  devoted  labors,  than  the 
work  of  training  indigent  young  men  for  the  Gospel 
ministry. 

While  prosecuting  his  labors  in  Newark,  Dr.  Rich- 
ards suffered  a  few  of  the  productions  of  his  pen  to  be 
published.  An  Address  delivered  at  the  funeral  of  Mrs. 
Sarah  Gumming,  wife  of  the  Rev.  Hooper  Gumming, 
which  occurred  in  1812,  has  been  publicly  noticed  with 
favor.  The  occasion  was  one  of  deep  interest.  The 
death  of  Mrs  C.  was  occasioned  at  Patterson,  by  a  fall 
from  the  rocks  overhanging  the  Passaic,  while  she  was 
viewing  the  scenery  of  that  place.  The  excitement 
produced  in  Newark  was  unwonted,  and  the  funeral  one 
of  the  largest  ever  known  in  the  city.  The  scene 
woke  up  the  strong  sympathies  of  the  preacher's  heart, 
and  his  address  was  worthy  of  himself  and  the  occasion. 

In  1816  several  of  his  sermons  were  given  to  the  press. 
Among  these,  the  one  entitled  "  The  Sinner's  Inability 
to  come  to  Christ,"  may  be  regarded  as  a  lucid  and 
forcible  exhibition  of  the  subject,  and,  perhaps,  this  dis- 
course may  be  considered  as  a  fair  specimen  of  the  per- 
spicuity which  usually  marked  his  expositions  of  Gospel 
truth. 

As  a  pastor  in  Newark,  it  was  the  privilege  of  Dr. 
Richards  to  know  that  his  labor  was  "  not  in  vain  in  the 
Lord."  At  several  distinct  periods  God  was  with  his 
people  of  a  truth.  About  the  close  of  his  first  pastoral 
year  a  few  souls  were  hopefully  brought  from  darkness 
into  light.  In  the  year  1813,  Zion  was  refreshed  and 
salvation  came  to  the  congregation ;  and  in  1817  the 
heavens  dropped  fatness  and  the  skies  poured  down 
righteousness  upon  the  people.  As  the  fruits  of  this  re- 
vival, 69  were  added  to  the  church  in  May,  54  in  July, 


BIOGRAPHICAL     SKETCH.  33 

and  in  all,  including  those  who  united  soon  after,  135 
within  nine  months.  This  was  emphatically  the  year  of 
God's  right  hand,  in  connection  with  a  ministry  of  four- 
teen years  and  a  half.  During  the  pastoral  services  of 
Dr.  Richards,  the  church  received  an  accession  of  about 
five  hundred  members — three  hundred  and  thirty-two 
were  added  on  the  profession  of  their  faith,  and  six 
young  men,  members  of  the  church,  were  licensed  to 
preach  the  GospeL 

It  may  also  be  noticed  that  Dr.  Richards,  for  a  consid- 
erable time  previous  to  his  taking  leave  of  Newark,  was 
regarded  as  having  made  extraordinary  attainments  in 
Christian  theology.  Young  men  looking  to  the  Christian 
ministry  availed  themselves  of  his  instructions,  and  studied 
under  his  direction;  and  those  who  knew  him  best  look- 
ed to  the  day  when  God,  in  his  providence,  might  point 
him  to  the  more  exclusive  work  of  instructing  those 
who  were  preparing  to  preach  the  Gospel. 

I  conclude  this  chapter  in  the  words  of  the  present 
Pastor  of  the  First  Presbyterian  Congregation  in  Newark, 
from  a  discourse  pronounced  on  the  occasion  of  the  death 
of  Dr.  Richards. 

"  Fifteen  years  he  devoted  to  the  faithful  discharge  of  his  duties 
as  a  minister  of  Christ  with  this  people,  and  probably  few  men  in 
the  ministry  ever  more  punctually,  systematically,  and  successfully 
performed  the  duties  of  the  sacred  office. 

*  *  *  "  The  continued  prosperity  of  this  church,  the  hopeful 
conversion  of  hundreds  under  his  ministry,  the  enlarged  benevo- 
lence which  distinguished  the  people  of  his  charge,  and  the  har- 
mony that  existed  through  his  entire  ministry,  are  the  results  and 
evidences  of  his  fidelity  among  you." 


CHAPTER  IV. 


HIS  CONNECTION  WITH    THE   THEOLOGICAL   SEMINARY  AT   AUBURN. 

THE  Theological  Seminary  at  Auburn,  was  established 
in  1819,  by  the  Synod  of  Geneva,  and  with  the  sanction 
of  the  General  Assembly  of  the  Presbyterian  Church. 
It  was  incorporated  by  a  law  of  the  State  in  1820.  By 
the  Act  of  Incorporation  the  Institution  was  placed  under 
the  care  of  a  Board  of  Trustees  and  a  Board  of  Com- 
missioners ;  the  latter  to  be  chosen  annually  by  the 
Presbyteries  recognized  in  the  Act,  and  by  other  Pres- 
byteries who  might  afterward  associate  with  them. 

In  1821  the  Seminary  went  into  operation,  with  three 
professors,  and  with  ten  or  twelve  students.  It  was  a 
bold  effort ; — an  effort,  we  doubt  not,  resulting  from  that 
faith  which  sees  "  light  in  the  darkness."  Not  a  professor- 
ship was  endowed  •  the  Library  was  necessarily  indiffer- 
ent both  as  to  the  number  and  the  selection  of  books ; 
while  the  Christian  community  were  but  partially  awake 
to  the  merits  or  the  worth  of  such  an  institution.  At 
the  end  of  two  years,  the  number  of  students  had  not 
increased,  but  rather  diminished ;  and  in  no  respects, 
perhaps,  were  the  prospects  of  the  institution  materially 
brightened,  except  in  the  advancement  of  the  Seminary 
edifice. 

About  this  time,  however,  an  important  impulse  was 
given  to  this  infant  school  of  the  prophets.  Arthur 
Tappan,  Esq.,  of  the  city  of  New  York,  generously  devoted 
the  sum  of  fifteen  thousand  dollars,  as  a  capital  fund,  to 
be  used  as  a  permanent  endowment  of  a  professorship  of 


BIOGRAPHICAL     SKETCH.  35 

Christian  Theology.  Never  was  aid  more  opportune 
than  this.  Hands  that  hung  down  were  lifted  up,  and 
feeble  knees  were  strengthened.  The  name  of  the 
author  of  this  relief  will  long  be  held  in  grateful  remem- 
brance, as  one  of  the  greatest  benefactors  of  the  Auburn 
Seminary. 

From  the  first,  Dr.  Richards  was  regarded  by  the 
friends  of  the  Institution  as  a  suitable  and  prominent 
candidate  for  the  Theological  Professorship,  and  accord- 
ingly received  an  appointment  in  1820,  which  he  saw 
fit  to  decline.  At  this  time  (1823)  he  was  unanimously 
re-elected.  He  accepted  the  invitation  and  made  imme- 
diate preparations  to  remove  to  Auburn. 

The  following  extracts  reveal  his  feelings  on  leaving 
Newark,  and  going  to  his  new  field  of  labor.  From  Al- 
bany he  writes  to  his  daughter : 

"How  good  is  the  Lord!  Mercy,  great  mercy  is  mingled 
with  the  trial  attendant  on  my  removal.  Words  cannot  express 
the  tenderness  I  feel  towards  you  and  your  dear  family,  and  others 
left  behind.  But  I  dare  not  allow  myself  to  look  back.  I  trust  I 
have  been  directed  by  the  ringer  of  Providence,  and  I  feel  encour- 
aged to  proceed." 

On  arriving  at  Auburn,  he  again  writes : 

"  I  cannot  be  thankful  enough,  that  through  the  good  hand 
of  the  Lord  upon  us,  we  have  all  reached  the  place  of  our  des- 
tination in  safety.  I  need  not  say,  that  every  effort  is  making 
to  render  our  condition  as  pleasant  as  the  nature  of  the  case  will 
allow.  *  *  The  Seminary  opens  to-day.  My  inauguration  is 
to  take  place  next  Wednesday.  May  the  Lord  enable  me  to  meet 
the  occasion  with  a  becoming  spirit." 

On  Wednesday,  October  29th,  1823,  just  fifty-six 
years  from  the  day  of  his  birth,  he  was  inaugurated  Pro- 
fessor of  Christian  Theology.  His  address,  delivered  on 
the  occasion,  was  characterized  by  clear  and  enlarged 
views  of  the  importance  of  a  well-trained  ministry,  and 


36  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

furnished  to  a  large  audience  pleasing  promise  of  his 
usefulness  in  the  responsible  place  to  which  he  had  been 
called. 

In  entering  upon  his  duties,  Dr.  Richards  aimed,  first 
of  all,  to  meet  responsibilities  connected  with  his  owrn 
particular  department;  and,  secondly,  to  labor  for  the 
general  welfare  of  the  Seminary.  Accordingly,  his 
studies  were  made  subordinate  mainly  to  the  range  of 
instruction  which  he  was  called  to  impart.  He  carefully 
availed  himself  of  everything  furnished  by  the  press, 
which  had  a  particular  relation  to  his  official  work,  or 
which  promised  to  aid  him  in  the  discharge  of  its  duties. 

We  have  already  intimated  that,  for  two  years  pre- 
vious, to  his  coming,  the  Seminary  had  been  struggling 
for  life.  Much  had  been  done* — nay,  all  that  could  have 
been  expected.  The  Trustees  had  put  forth  vigorous 
efforts.  The  citizens  of  Auburn,  especially  those  whose 
views  led  them  to  sympathize  with  the  religious  features 
of  the  Seminary,  had  liberally  cherished  its  infancy. 
Yet  what  had  been  done  seemed  only  to  reveal  how 
much  needed  to  be  accomplished.  No  permanent  pro- 
vision had  been  made  to  sustain  professors,  who  had 
hitherto  "  borne  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day,"  and 
whose  unsettled  livings  required  faith  in  God  much  like 
Elijah's,  when  he  received  his  food  from  the  ravens. 
An  edifice,  containing  a  main  building  and  two  wings, 
had  been  erected ;  but  no  part,  with  the  exception  of  one 
wing,  was  ready  for  the  reception  of  students.  The  In- 
stitution was  destitute  of  scholarships  or  charity  founda- 
tions ;  it  could  scarcely  welcome  indigent  young  men  to 
a  shelter,  much  less  to  bread  or  raiment. 

Such  was  the  state  of  the  Institution  at  the  inaugura- 
tion of  Dr.  Richards.  Funds  were  to  be  raised  to  com- 
plete and  furnish  the  Seminary  edifice,  to  secure  an  ade- 
quate Library,  to  found  Professorships,  and  to  aid  such 
young  men  as  were  destitute  of  means,  and  yet  were 


BIOGRAPHICAL     SKETCH. 


37 


willing  to  spend  and  be  spent  in  the  office  of  the  Gospel 
Ministry. 

To  this  work  the  new  Professor  addressed  his  well- 
adapted  energies.  By  correspondence,  by  personal  vis- 
its, by  his  influence  in  conventions  and  ecclesiastical 
bodies,  he  most  earnestly  commended  the  Seminary  to 
the  attention,  the  prayers  and  the  charities  of  the  Chris- 
tian public. 

The  following  extract  is  a  specimen  of  his  epistolary 
efforts  in  behalf  of  indigent  students,  and  was  written, 
just  after  his  inauguration,  to  his  eldest  daughter : 

"  Five  of  our  young  men  are  yet  unprovided  for,  and  though 
we  have  expected  from  various  quarters,  I  am  anxious  for  the 
result.  I  want  you  to  state  the  fact  to  our  pious  and  benevolent 

female  friends  in  N .     Fifty  dollars  would  be  sufficient  to  pay 

the  seminary  bill  of  a  single  student  for  a  year.  It  would  be 
gratifying  to  me,  and  would  confer  a  lasting  obligation  on  the  In- 
stitution, if  a  little  exertion  could  be  made  among  you  for  our 
relief  at  the  present  time.  Who  would  not  be  willing,  in  a  case 
so  urgent  and  important,  to  throw  in  her  mite,  and  thus  bid  God 
speed  to  a  youth  who  is  anxious  and  trembling  lest  he  should  be 
stopped  in  his  course." 

In  the  course  of  a  few  weeks,  he  alludes  to  an  answer 
to  the  foregoing  appeal,  under  the  name  of  "  The  Newark 
foundation." 

Early  in  February,  he  visited  Albany  and  Troy,  in 
behalf  of  the  Institution.  From  the  latter  place  he 
writes : 

"I  am  trying  to  do  something  for  the  Seminary,  and  I  find  a 
little  time  is  necessary  to  beat  down  prejudice,  and  get  the  current 
into  the  right  channel.  My  subscription  in  Troy  stands  this  morn- 
ing at  $312.  I  hope  to  bring  it  up  to  four  or  five  hundred." 

From  Albany  he  also  writes : 

"  I  perceive  already  that  I  have  many  prejudices  to  combat,  and 
the  loving-money-principle,  the  greatest  of  all  obstacles,  to  over- 


38  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

come.  Nothing  but  the  strongest  fortitude,  supported  by  a  few  of  the 
choicest  friends,  can  avail  me  now.  I  believe  that  I  am  in  a  good 
cause,  and  that  the  Lord  is  on  my  side.  *  *  *  The  present  efforts,  I 
consider  merely  in  the  light  of  an  entering  wedge  ;  but  the  wedge 
I  shall  drive  as  long  as  I  can  perceive  that  it  moves  at  all.  * 
Time  alone,  with  good  management,  can  induce  the  Albanians  to 
turn  their  attention  to  Auburn." 

He  returned  home,  after  an  absence  of  about  three 
weeks,  having  raised  in  money  and  subscriptions  a  little 
more  than  twelve  hundred  dollars,  besides  receiving  a 
pledge  that  a  society  should  be  formed  in  each  place  for 
the  support  of  indigent  students  in  the  Seminary. 

In  the  following  summer  he  visited  Boston  in  behalf 
of  the  child  of  his  adoption. 

On  the  3d  of  July,  he  writes  to  his  daughter : 

"  I  find  nothing  can  be  done  here  by  being  in  a  hurry.  The 
Boston  folks  are  full  of  notions,  and  both  time  and  skill  are  requi- 
site to  get  the  thing  by  the  right  handle." 

On  the  9th,  he  writes  to  Mrs.  Richards  as  follows : 

"  Yesterday  was  the  first  time  I  put  my  hook  down,  after  spend- 
ing two  weeks  in  baiting  and  getting  ready.  Three  pretty  clever 
fellows  were  taken  in  the  course  of  the  day,  with  one  hundred 
dollars  a  piece.  *  *  *  I  know  your  impatience.  *  *  *  But  I  must 
do  right,  and  not  sacrifice  the  interests  of  the  Institution  to  my 
personal  feelings." 

During  the  same  visit,  he  made  an  appeal  in  New  York 
City,  in  behalf  of  the  Seminary.  He  was  encouraged  in 
this  effort  by  a  letter  written  by  Dr.  Spring,  of  the  Brick 
Church,  from  Philadelphia,  of  which  the  following  is  an 
extract : 

"It  is  a  critical  moment  with  your  Seminary,  and  I  trust  that 
the  good  people  of  New  York  will  feel  that  it  must  be  supported. 
I  hope  your  appeal  will  not  be  fruitless  ;  and  if  my  sentiments  can 
be  of  any  avail,  you  will  make  just  such  use  of  them  as  you  see  fit." 


BIOGRAPHICAL     SKETCH.  39 

The  result  of  this  "  appeal  "  may  be  learned  from  the 
following  extract  of  a  letter  from  Dr.  Richards,  written 
a  few  months  after. 

"  The  news  from  New  York,  in  regard  to  the  Seminary,  is  quite 
cheering.  The  $12,000  professorship  is  made  up  by  seven  men 
of  the  Brick  Church,  and  the  prospects  for  the  Library  are  flatter- 
ing. Let  God  have  the  glory." 

In  October,  1825,  he  visited  Philadelphia  as  an  agent 
for  the  Seminary.  He  writes : 

"  I  have  thought  it  probable  that  I  should  not  receive  enough 
to  pay  my  expenses  to  and  from  the  place.  Last  evening  I  was 
brought  to  feel  perfectly  willing  to  receive  the  crumbs  that  fall 
from  my  Master's  table  :  and  you  may  judge  of  my  surprise,  when 
the  first  two  crumbs  amounted  to  twelve  hundred  dollars.  *  *  * 
I  suppose  that  my  movements  here  will  not  be  very  grateful  to 
some  of  my  brethren,  but  if  my  success  shall  prove  considerable,  I 
shall  not  be  greatly  moved  at  the  trouble  which  I  occasion." 

Again,  four  days  after,  he  writes  : 

a  My  subscription  stands  here  at  eighteen  hundred  and  ninety 
dollars.  *  *  *  We  have  here  a  few  tried  friends,  but  the  greater 
part  neither  know  us,  or  care  any  more  for  us,  than  if  we  lived 
in  Kamschatka.  In  time  to  come,  however,  some  will  doubtless 
remember  us ;  and  pains  must  be  taken  to  circulate  among  the 
good  people  of  this  city  a  knowledge  of  our  Institution." 

The  Board  of  Trustees  speak  of  this  visit  to  Philadel- 
phia as  follows : 

a  His  particular  object  was  the  establishment  of  a  fund  for  the 
Professorship  of  Biblical  Criticism.  During  his  journey,  he  procured 
for  that  fund,  in  cash,  notes  and  subscriptions,  about  $2,850,  and 
the  donation  of  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  acres  of  land,  from 
which  will  probably  be  realized  at  least  four  hundred  dollars. 

Early  in  the  following  spring  he  visited  Geneva,  Can- 
andaigua,  Geneseo,  and  other  towns  in  Western  New 


40  BIOGRAPHICAL     SKETCH. 

York,  everywhere  making  a  favorable  impression  in 
behalf  of  the  young  "  school  of  the  prophets/5  and  urging 
its  claims  to  the  attention  and  charities  of  the 
churches. 

In  September,  1826,  or  during  the  vacation  of  the 
Seminary,  he  traveled  east,  associating  his  relaxation 
from  the  duties  of  a  Professor  with  the  labors  of  a  Soli- 
citing Agent.  He  first  visited  his  former  congregation 
in  Newark,  and,  in  connection  with  his  friendly  calls 
upon  the  people,  presented  the  claims  of  the  Seminary, 
signifying  that  donations  in  aid  of  that  infant  institution 
would  be  received  as  the  most  grateful  tokens  which 
the  donors  could  render  of  esteem  and  love  for  their 
former  pastor.  These  kind  solicitations,  during  this 
visit,  resulted  in  a  subscription  of  nearly  a  thousand 
dollars.  As  he  continued  his  journeyings,  his  ruling 
passion  constantly  betrayed  itself,  both  on  sea  and  land  ; 
and  on  the  boat  which  carried  him  to  New  Haven,  to 
attend  the  commencement  of  Yale  College,  he  secured 
from  one  individual  a  pledge  of  five  hundred  dollars. 
In  allusion  to  this  individual  he  WTites,  "  How  kindly 
did  the  Lord  bring  him  in  my  way,  and  how  favorably 
did  he  dispose  his  heart !" 

The  foregoing  notices  are  submitted  to  the  reader,  in 
connection,  to  serve  not  only  as  indications  of  the  general 
care  which  Dr.  Richards  exercised  over  the  Seminary, 
but  also  of  his  readiness  to  "  endure  hardness  "  and  toil 
to  give  it  character,  and  influence,  and  permanency.  It 
may  be  observed  that  several  journeyings  of  this  kind 
were  performed  during  a  recess  or  vacation,  and  thus 
his  days  of  rest  were  used  in  the  prosecution  of  the  most 
arduous  labors ;  while  some  of  them  were  performed  in 
the  depth  of  winter,  or  early  in  the  spring,  thus  sub- 
jecting his  health  to  serious  exposure  and  detriment. 
Besides,  an  absence  from  the  bosom  of  his  family,  at  an 
age  when  "  sweet  home  "  seems  indispensable  to  render 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


41 


one's  condition  tolerable,  is  an  item  not  to  be  overlooked 
in  estimating  the  self-sacrificing  character  of  these  ser- 
vices. 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  to  Mrs. 
Richards,  during  the  absence  last  noticed,  will  show 
both  the  self-denial  and  the  object  of  this  kind  of  labor: 

"  I  know  your  privations  occasioned  by  my  absence ;  but,  be- 
lieve it,  they  are  not  greater  on  your  part  than  on  mine.  The 
longer  I  live,  the  more  your  society  and  home  are  necessary  to  my 
happiness.  *  *  *  It  is  nothing  but  a  sense  of  duty  that  can 
keep  me  away  from  home.  But  the  Seminary  must  live  and 
prosper,  or  neither  you  nor  I  can  be  happy.  Yet  there  is  a  higher 
motive  to  direct  us — the  cause  of  truth  and  righteousness  in  the 
earth.  The  Auburn  institution  is  destined,  I  trust,  to  be  an  effi- 
cient school  of  the  prophets.  It  will  live  and  be  blessed,  I  have 
no  doubt,  generations  after  we  are  dead ;  and  still  its  future  use- 
fulness may  be  closely  connected  with  the  momentum  which  is 
given  to  it  in  its  infancy." 

The  years  1826,  '27  were  fraught  with  trials  to  the 
church  in  which  Dr.  Richards,  both  from  his  experience 
and  position,  would  be  expected  strongly  to  sympathize. 
They  were  years  of  much  religious  excitement.  This 
excitement  had  an  intimate  connection  with  the  labors 
of  Rev.  Charles  G.  Finney  as  principal,  and  with  the 
labors  of  subordinates,  both  ministers  and  laymen.  The 
subordinates,  in  many  things,  were  more  extravagant 
than  the  principal ;  and  their  numbers  were  considerable 
throughout  Central  and  Western  New  York.  It  was 
thought  by  many  that  some  of  the  measures  which  were 
adopted  by  these  evangelists,  though  they  "zealously 
affected "  men,  did  not  affect  them  "  well."  Anxious 
seats  were  extensively  used ;  females,  in  many  instances, 
were  encouraged  to  speak  and  pray  in  promiscuous 
assemblies;  individuals  were  often  prayed  for  in  the 
churches,  either  by  name,  or  in  some  other  way  by 
which  they  were  made  known  to  the  congregation. 
3 


42  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

The  preaching,  also,  as  a  means  of  excitement,  was 
strikingly  conformed  to  other  measures  which  were  used. 
The  truth,  though  in  many  instances  preached  with 
fidelity,  nevertheless  was  presented  with  a  severity  of 
tone  and  manner  which  strongly  excited  the  passions  of 
the  hearers,  and  thus  prevented  its  access  to  the  conscience 
and  the  heart.  And  the  praying,  in  many  instances, 
was  scarcely  less  severe  than  the  preaching.  Some,  in- 
deed, seemed  to  regard  its  efficacy  as  depending  much 
upon  the  strong  and  denunciatory  language  and  epithets 
under  which  sinners  were  commended  to  the  mercy  of 
God. 

This  feature  in  prayer  was  particularly  developed 
when  men  high  in  official  station  were  made  the  subjects 
of  its  supplications.  The  reason  for  this  which  seemed 
to  obtain  was,  that  the  position  of  such  men  gave  them 
an  influence  which,  if  they  did  not  approve  the  measures, 
and  encourage  them,  would  prove  specially  disastrous, 
and  contribute  to  shut  up  the  kingdom  of  heaven  against 
men.  Thus,  when  pastors  of  churches,  presidents  of 
colleges  and  professors  in  theological  seminaries  were 
reluctant  to  go  with  the  current,  they  were  subject,  in 
some  instances,  to  abusive  and  slanderous  epithets  in  the 
form  of  prayer.  They  were  presented  before  the  throne 
of  mercy  as  "dead,"  as  "unconverted,"  as  "  opposers  of 
revivals  of  religion,"  as  "  keeping  sinners  out  of  heaven," 
and  "encouraging  them  in  their  way  to  perdition."  The 
venerable  President  of  Hamilton  College  is  said  to  have 
been  prayed  for  as  an  "  old  gray -headed  sinner,  leading  souls 
down  to  hell;  and  the  writer  distinctly  recollects  a  prayer- 
meeting  within  sight  of  that  college,  in  which  the  plea 
was  urged  with  great  fervor,  that  God  would  raze  the  walls 
of  its  buildings,  if  necessary  to  bring  the  President  and 
some  of  his  associates  to  give  countenance  to  the  exist- 
ing state  of  things ! 

The  coming  of  Mr.  Finney  to  Auburn,  as  an  evange- 


BIOGRAPHICAL     SKETCH.  43 

list,  subjected  Dr.  Richards  to  the  same  treatment  which 
men  of  similar  views  had  received  in  other  places.  He 
and  some  of  his  associates  in  the  Faculty  of  the  Seminary 
were  not  prepared  to  regard  the  "new  measures"  as  consti- 
tuting the  "  more  excellent  way  "  in  promoting  the  work 
of  God.  His  cautious  feet,  therefore,  avoided  the  way 
which  his  judgment  could  not  approve.  Such  a  position, 
taken  by  a  prominent  professor  in  a  Theological  Seminary, 
excited  considerable  attention,  and  exposed  him  to  the 
animadversion  of  those  who  approved  of  the  existing  state 
of  things.  He  was  regarded  as  standing  in  the  way  of  the 
work  of  the  Lord.  He  was  subjected  to  much  unkind 
remark,  and  his  position  is  said  to  have  been  especially 
recognized  in  prayer,  in  some  of  the  pulpits  within  sight 
of  the  Seminary.  It  was  deemed  a  strange  thing  that 
the  Professor  would  not  "  break  down  "  in  such  circum- 
stances, and  unite  his  energies  and  influence  with  those 
of  the  young  evangelist.  But  Dr.  Richards  was  not  a 
man  to  "  break  down,"  or  even  bend,  in  violation  of  his 
own  moral  sense,  and  in  utter  disregard  of  the  solemn 
and  abundant  teachings  of  his  own  experience.  He  was 
not  a  stranger  in  Jerusalem,  and  therefore  ignorant  of 
the  history  of  things  which  had  there  occurred.  The 
extravagances  of  Davenport  and  his  coadjutors  had  taken 
place  but  a  quarter  of  a  century  before  his  birth,  and  he 
had  learned  them  from  the  lips  of  his  parents.  At  the 
time  of  his  own  conversion,  the  church  had  not  recovered 
from  their  disastrous  influence,  and  his  own  spiritual 
infancy  had  been  subjected  to  severe  trials  from  the 
very  prejudice  against  religion  which  these  excesses  had 
created.  His  own  experience  also,  as  a  pastor,  was  abund. 
ant,  for  he  had  served  the  church  thirty  years  in  this 
relation.  The  fields  of  his  labors  had  enjoyed  "  refresh- 
ings from  the  presence  of  the  Lord,"  and  he  had  learned 
that  discrimination,  tenderness  and  meekness,  as  well  as 
boldness  and  zeal,  wrere  indispensable  in  such  seasons. 


44  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

He  was  therefore  jealous  of  the  existing  movements. 
While  he  did  not  doubt  that  some  good  would  be  done, 
he  deprecated  the  evils  which  his  knowledge  led  him  to 
anticipate.  He  trembled  lest,  while  some  should  be 
converted,  others,  whose  souls  were  of  equal  value, 
would  become  disgusted,  and  be  driven  to  "a  returnless 
distance  "  from  the  Gospel.  He  anticipated,  also,  that 
these  things  would  engender  strife  in  the  church,  rather 
than  contribute  to  the  "  unity  of  the  Spirit  in  the  bond 
of  peace  " — nay,  that,  on  the  whole,  more  would  be  lost 
to  religion  and  to  Zion  than  would  be  gained.  He  was 
constrained,  therefore,  as  an  honest  man,  to  abstain  from 
these  measures.  And  the  position  seemed,  in  the  cir- 
cumstances, as  hazardous  as  it  was  independent.  The 
Seminary  was  in  its  infancy,  and  not  prepared  for  the 
shock  of  revolution,  and  yet  here  was  an  honest  differ- 
ence of  views  in  the  house  of  its  friends,  on  important 
matters  and  in  scenes  of  great  interest  and  excitement. 
The  congregation  in  which  Mr.  Finney  was  preaching 
had  nobly  contributed  to  give  birth  to  the  Seminary, 
and  to  cherish  its  infancy.  The  pastor  of  the  congrega- 
tion was  "  one  of  the  prime  and  most  efficient  agents  in 
measures  which  had  led  to  its  establishment,"  had  served 
several  years  as  one  of  its  professors,  and  had  just  re- 
signed his  professorship  and  retired  with  the  blessing  of 
the  Institution  upon  his  head.  Also  the  students  of  the 
Seminary,  to  a  considerable  extent — young  men  of  the 
first  promise  as  to  talents  and  piety — were  led  to  wonder 
that  their  venerated  Professor  should  not  yield  to  the 
voice  of  his  friends,  and  to,  what  seemed  to  them,  the 
voice  of  duty  Rarely  is  one's  position  more  trying  than 
was  that  of  Dr.  Richards  at  this  time.  Had  he  yielded, 
he  could  certainly  have  urged  very  plausible,  and  what,  to 
some  minds,  would  have  been  regarded  as  the  most 
satisfactory  and  important  reasons,  for  so  doing.  He 
could  have  urged  the  wishes  of  his  friends,  who  loved 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  45 

Christ  and  his  cause — the  danger  of  seeming  to  oppose 
the  work  of  God — the  importance  of  union  of  action  be- 
tween himself  and  many  who  endeavored,  at  least,  to 
bear  with  objectionable  measures,  in  the  hope  that  much 
good  would  be  done.  Nay,  he  could  have  said  that  he 
had  acted  advisedly,  and  under  the  influence  of  convic- 
tion expressed  by  his  friends — that  his  influence,  if  given 
to  the  work,  would  strongly  operate  as  a  check  upon  any 
excesses  which  might  exist. 

But  Dr.  Richards  was  immovable.  He  could  not  yield 
contrary  to  his  convictions  of  duty.  And  it  is  believed, 
that  when  the  excitement  had  subsided,  the  honor  award- 
ed to  his  firmness  and  judgment  was  equal  to  the  reproach 
to  which  he  had  been  subjected.  Many,  it  is  believed, 
who  then  honestly  differed  from  him,  have  since  been 
ready  to  bless  him  for  Zion's  sake,  for  the  position  which 
he  maintained.  The  Christian  community,  also,  reposed 
in  him  augmented  confidence  from  that  day,  and  the  im- 
pression extensively  obtained,  that  he  who  could  pre- 
side so  safely  over  a  Theological  Seminary  "  in  the 
palmy  days  of  Evangelism,"  might  be  safely  trusted, 
under  God,  in  any  emergency  which  such  an  institu- 
tion might  be  called  to  experience. 

The  labors  of  Dr.  Richards  as  a  soliciting  agent,  though 
already  continued  much  longer  than  he  had  intended, 
were  not  entirely  laid  aside.  During  the  recess  of  the 
Seminary,  in  January,  1827,  he  visited  Rochester,  and 
received  several  hundred  dollars,  in  aid  chiefly  of  the 
contingent  fund  of  the  Institution.  Subsequent  to  this 
date,  however,  he  went  abroad  in  person  much  less  than 
formerly,  though  his  appeals  to  the  benevolent,  by  letter, 
continued  to  the  close  of  his  life. 

In  the  winter  of  1827-28  his  health  seriously  de- 
clined. His  disease  was  a  species  of  jaundice,  which 
interrupted  his  labors  as  a  professor,  and,  at  times,  com- 
pelled him  wholly  to  suspend  them.  The  writer,  then 


45  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

a  member  of  the  Institution,  is  able  to  testify  that  the 
suspension,  however,  was  much  less  than  the  case  seemed 
to  demand.  Often  did  he  meet  this  venerable  teacher 
in  the  lecture-room,  when  the  retirement  of  his  chamber 
and  his  bed  seemed  more  fitting  the  state  of  his  health. 
Of  this  illness,  he  writes  to  his  eldest  daughter  in  the 
spring  of  1828,  as  follows  : 

"  I  have  suffered  more  this  winter  from  indisposition,  than  from 
any  former  one  since  I  have  resided  in  Auburn.  *  *  Life's 
brief  journey,  with  all  its  changes,  its  joys  and  its  sorrows,  will 
soon  close.  Too  apt  are  we  to  forget  how  rapidly  time  hastens? 
and  what  amazing  interests  hang  on  it." 

About  two  months  after  he  writes  again  : 

"  What  the  Lord  intends  to  do  with  me  he  wisely  and  kindly 
conceals  in  his  own  bosom.  Perhaps  he  intends  the  restoration  of 
my  health  and  usefulness — perhaps  he  is  about  to  bring  all  my 
earthly  concerns  to  a  close.  I  desire  to  leave  the  whole  matter 
with  him,  and  to  rest  contented  with  his  sovereign  will." 

But  while  he  thus  submitted  his  case  to  the  "  sovereign 
will  of  God,"  he  did  not  omit  the  use  of  such  means  as 
promised  to  restore  his  health.  He  remitted  his  ordinary 
studies— journeyed  as  he  was  able — purchased  a  horse 
and  carriage  as  a  means  of  frequent  exercise  in  riding — 
visited  mineral  springs — and  even  read  books  to  learn 
both  the  nature  of  his  disease  and  its  appropriate  reme- 
dies. The  following  letter  to  his  daughter  may  here 
find  an  appropriate  place : 

"  I  have  lately  been  attending  to  chemistry  myself,  that  I  might 
form  something  of  a  judgment  as  to  the  nature  of  various  chemical 
preparations  which  my  physicians  have  prescribed.  I  perceive  that 
in  some  cases  they  have  been  manifestly  counterworking  them- 
selves. I  have  read  some  of  the  most  celebrated  medical  works  on 
the  nature  and  treatment  of  the  jaundice,  and  other  biliary  affec- 
tions— a  poor  business,  the  doctors  will  say,  for  a  sick  man — and  I 
do  not  think  it  time  misspent.  Somebody  must  decide  when  the 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


47 


doctors  disagree.  I  greatly  respect  the  profession,  and  I  do  not 
mean  to  assume  to  myself  any  claim  to  judge  for  other  people,  nor 
even  in  my  own  case  without  the  aid  of  professional  advisers.  But 
I  do  not  intend  to  descend  into  the  ditch  blindfold,  and  without 
the  least  inquiry ;  but  among  all  the  guessing  and  conjecturing, 
guess  a  little  myself.  One  of  my  conjectures  is,  that  I  have  taken 
too  much  medicine  by  half,  and  sometimes  that  which  is  injurious. " 

In  the  Spring  of  1829  he  received  a  severe  injury 
from  his  horse,  which  at  first  seemed  to  threaten  a  fatal 
termination.  He  was  assisting  his  servant  in  harnessing 
the  animal,  when  it  suddenly  started,  and  throwing  him 
down,  planted  both  hind  feet  upon  his  chest,  in  the  re- 
gion of  the  stomach.  In  allusion  to  this  event  he  writes 
as  follows : 

a  I  was  enabled  to  rise  and  walk,  but  with  such  fainting  and 
trembling  as  I  apprehended  would  be  attended  with  immediate  dis- 
solution. *  *  How  true  it  is,  that  in  the  midst  of  life  we  are 
in  death  ;  and  that  when  our  hopes  are  most  buoyant  with  respect 
to  our  usefulness  and  comfort,  we  may  be  on  the  eve  of  closing 
our  pilgrimage  altogether." 

In  connection  with  his  other  infirmities,  he  was  visited 
about  this  time  with  a  cancerous  affection  in  his  nose, 
whose  removal  somewhat  disfigured  his  noble  and  manly 
countenance.  He  speaks  of  it  as  follows  : 

a  The  cancerous  disorder  in  my  nose  is  entirely  healed,  but  will 
leave,  I  think,  a  depression  which,  if  I  might  have  had  my  choice, 
I  would  have  avoided.  But  this  is  a  small  matter,  when  weighed 
against  many  other  evils,  to  which  both  body  and  soul  stand  ex- 
posed. *  *  It  is  good  to  have  the  sentence  of  death  in  our- 
selves. *  *  It  weans  us  from  the  world ;  it  carries  our  thoughts 
to  another  and  better  state  of  being." 

The  illness  of  Dr.  Richards,  extending  over  a  space  of 
nearly  two  years,  proved  a  serious  embarrassment  to  the 
Seminary.  When  it  commenced  there  were  76  students 
— the  largest  number  furnished  to  the  Institution  at  one 


48  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

time  since  its  commencement.  But  from  this  year  a  de- 
cline began.  Some,  who  were  on  the  ground,  left  for 
other  Seminaries  ;  and  others,  who  had  intended  to  pur- 
sue their  theological  course  at  Auburn,  were  prevented. 
The  knowledge  of  Dr.  Richard's  illness  was  propagated, 
not  only  through  his  own  State,  but  through  New  Eng- 
land— furnishing  an  argument  to  those  who  desired  to 
turn  the  attention  of  young  men  to  other  institutions. 
To  the  decline  thus  begun,  several  other  adverse  influ- 
ences essentially  contributed.  One  was  the  decline  of 
Hamilton  College,  which  had  been  a  liberal  feeder  to 
the  Seminary,  but  which,  just  at  this  time,  was  sending 
from  its  walls  few,  if  any,  candidates  for  the  Gospel  min- 
istry. Another,  perhaps,  was  the  establishment  of  a 
Theological  Seminary  in  New  Haven,  Ct.,  to  which  many 
young  men  were  attracted,  both  by  the  high  literary 
character  of  the  place,  and  also  by  the  announcement 
that  "  some  important  discoveries  in  theology  had  there 
been  made." 

About  the  beginning  of  1830,  Dr.  Richards'  health 
had  become  essentially  improved,  and  he  applied  him- 
self to  his  duties  with  renewed  courage  and  energy. 
He  writes  at  this  time  : 

"It  is  difficult  for  you,  or  any  one  not  acquainted  with  the  in- 
ternal concerns  of  such  an  institution,  readily  to  perceive  the 
amount  of  labor  demanded  of  an  instructor.  The  mere  correspond- 
ence connected  with  the  institution,  the  chief  of  which  falls  on 
my  shoulders,  is  not  a  trifling-  operation.  But,  thanks  to  a  gracious 
Providence,  my  health  has  been  wonderfully  preserved,  and  still 
continues  to  improve." 

Dr.  Richards  was  ever  ready  to  shoulder  responsibility, 
in  an  emergency.  This  feature  of  his  character  made 
him  a  most  efficient  helper  of  those  who  had  the  over- 
sight of  the  finances  of  the  Institution,  and  greatly  en- 
couraged them  in  their  efforts,  especially  in  seasons  of 
embarrassment  and  trial.  An  instance  occurred  like 


BIOGRAPHICAL     SKETCH.  49 

this.  The  heart  of  one  of  the  Trustees,  at  a  certain  time, 
fainted  within  him,  in  view  of  the  difficulties  which  beset 
the  Seminary.  He  was  freely  indulging  in  his  gloomy 
forebodings,  when  it  wras  announced  that,  in  view  of  the 
state  of  things,  Dr.  Richards  would  leave  home  the  next 
morning,  with  the  design  of  seeking  aid  for  the  Institu- 
tion. His  desponding  spirit  was  immediately  relieved, 
and  he  exclaimed,  THEN  THE  SEMINARY  WILL  GO  ! — 

THEN    IT   WILL   GO  ! 

In  the  year  1830,  the  Treasurer  of  the  Board  of 
Trustees  reported  that  the  Seminary  was  in  debt  ten 
thousand  dollars,  and  that  this  debt  was  increasing  from 
six  to  eight  hundred  dollars  annually.  In  this  state  of 
things,  the  Professors  agreed  to  throw  off  two  hundred 
dollars  each  from  their  salaries,  annually,  until  such  time 
as  the  Trustees  should  be  able  to  pay  the  stipulated 
sums,  provided  that  the  Boards  of  Trustees  and  Commis- 
sioners should,  within  one  year,  raise  the  sum  of  twelve 
thousand  dollars,  to  be  employed  for  the  use  of  the  Semi- 
nary, and  to  meet  its  existing  engagements. 

The  year  closed,  and  but  seven  thousand  dollars  had 
been  secured.  The  Professors  generously  extended  the 
probation  from  August  to  January.  In  the  mean  time, 
Dr.  Richards  took  his  pen.  He  prepared  a  brief  narra- 
tive of  the  rise  and  progress  of  the  Institution,  setting 
forth  its  embarrassments  and  successes,  its  prospects  and 
claims,  connected  with  an  offer  of  a  liberal  personal 
contribution,  and  a  pungent  appeal  to  all  whom  it  might 
concern. 

On  the  30th  of  January  1832,  he  alludes  to  the  effort 
of  the  Trustees,  in  a  letter  as  follows  : 

"  Our  enterprise  of  raising  $12,000  for  the  Seminary  before  the 
18th  of  this  month  has  succeeded  ;  at.  which,  you  may  well  believe, 
I  rejoice.  It  has  thrown  from  me  a  heavy  load  of  care  and  respon- 
sibility." 


50  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

The  anxieties  and  labors  of  Dr.  Richards,  which  had 
looked  to  the  general  welfare  of  the  Seminary,  and  which, 
for  the  space  of  twelve  years,  had  been  exceedingly 
burdensome,  were  somewhat  relieved  in  1835,  by  the 
accession  of  Rev.  S.  H.  Cox,  D.D.,  to  the  Professorship 
of  Sacred  Rhetoric  and  Pastoral  Theology.  He  entered 
upon  his  duties  in  the  fullness  of  his  strength.  Besides 
performing  the  appropriate  services  of  his  own  depart- 
ment, he  instructed,  for  a  time,  in  Ecclesiastical  Litera- 
ture, and  performed  much  labor  for  the  Seminary  in  the 
form  of  raising  funds.  His  coming  was  opportune,  both 
on  account  of  the  "often  infirmities"  of  Dr.  Richards, 
and  the  decease  of  Dr.  Perrine,  which  occurred  during 
the  following  winter.  He  "  who  tempers  the  wind  to 
the  shorn  lamb,"  being  about  to  remove  one  public  serv- 
ant to  his  final  rest,  graciously  introduced  another, 
whose  versatility  of  talent  and  form  of  services,  seemed 
particularly  adapted  to  the  emergency. 

The  compiler  may  here  introduce  an  extract  from  a 
minute  passed  by  the  Board  of  Commissioners,  on  the 
decease  of  Dr.  Perrine  : 

"  But  while  we  mourn  our  loss,  in  that  he  has  been  called  to 
his  reward,  we  would  render  unfeigned  thanks  that  he  was  permit- 
ted so  long  and  so  ably  to  employ  the  powers  of  his  discriminating- 
mind,  and  the  sympathies  of  his  warm  heart,  in  the  service  of  this 
beloved  institution." 

The  years  of  1837  and  '38  are  never  to  be  forgotten 
in  the  Presbyterian  Church.  The  act  of  the  General  As- 
sembly, in  its  summary  excision  of  four  Synods,  was 
matter  of  extreme  pain  and  mortification  to  thousands  of 
the  best  men  in  the  church,  and  to  none  more  than  to 
Dr.  Richards.  He  lived  in  the  heart  of  one,  and  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood  of  two  more,  of  the  Synods  thus 
cut  off.  His  position  furnished  him  means  of  knowing 
their  character  both  as  to  doctrine  and  practice.  He 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  5J 

was  engaged  in  teaching  Theology,  in  a  Seminary 
specially  fostered  by  these  Synods ;  and  if  views  of  doc- 
trine and  church  order  had  prevailed  upon  this  field, 
essentially  different  from  those  taught  in  its  own  Semi- 
nary, he  must  have  known  it.  Yet  he  was  able  to  see 
no  adequate  cause  for  the  amputation  which  took  place. 
Though  he  had  taken  occasion  to  resist  some  "  new  mea- 
sures/' which  at  different  times,  and  in  different  places 
had  received  some  favor;  and  also  some  innovations 
in  doctrine,  which,  originating  in  other  fields,  had  been 
brought  into  Western  New  York ;  yet  he  firmly  believed 
that  the  church  and  ministry  connected  with  these  Syn- 
ods, as  a  whole,  deserved  a  place  among  the  first  in  the 
order  and  faith  of  the  Presbyterian  name.  And  though 
he  regretted  to  be  separated  from  the  ecclesiastical  rec- 
ognition of  brethren,  to  whom  his  soul  had  been  knit 
through  all  his  Christian  and  ministerial  history,  yet  (to 
use  the  language  of  Dr.  Cox,  one  of  his  colleagues)  he 
preferred  to  be  of  the  EXSCINDED  rather  than  of  the  EX- 
SCINDING. 

The  proceedings  of  the  General  Assembly  in  this 
matter  turned  all  eyes  to  Dr.  Richards.  Some  who  had 
used  the  ecclesiastical  knife,  and  even  numbered  him 
among  their  victims,  seemed  to  expect  that  he  would 
approve  their  views  and  proceedings.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  severed  and  bleeding  Synods  relied  with  the 
confidence  of  children  upon  his  sympathy  and  counsel 
in  the  day  of  trouble.  His  brethren  at  the  East  who 
regretted  the  exscinding  act,  and  deprecated  a  schism 
in  the  Presbyterian  Church,  wrote  to  him  as  to  a  father, 
asking  his  counsel  and  bespeaking  his  attendance  at 
Philadelphia  in  the  spring  of  1838,  that  the  Assembly 
might  have  the  benefit  of  his  counsels.  Others  wrote 
to  him,  anxiously  inquiring  after  the  real  character  of 
the  exscinded  Synods  for  Christian  faith  and  practice. 
The  following  letter,  written  to  his  daughter,  who  had 


52  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

expressed  some  anxiety  in  regard  to  his  appointment  as 
a  commissioner  for  the  spring  of  1838,  reveals  the  spirit 
by  which  his  conduct  was  regulated  in  this  day  of  re- 
buke, and  his  confidence  in  those  whom  he  was  appointed 
to  represent : 

"  You  express  some  anxiety  about  my  being  appointed  a  dele- 
gate to  the  next  General  Assembly.  If  life  and  health  are  spared, 
I  expect  to  fulfill  that  appointment ;  but  I  do  not  feel  myself  pledged 
to  any  course  of  violence.  *  *  *  The  brethren  in  this  region 
feel  quite  calm  on  the  subject — disposed,  however,  to  do  that  which, 
after  prayer,  much  counsel  and  reflection,  shall  seem  meet  to  be 
done.  The  condition  of  things  in  the  Church,  as  well  as  in  the 
State,  it  must  be  confessed,  is  quite  ominous  at  present;  but  we 
pray  and  look  for  a  brighter  day.  I  know  of  nothing  better  for  us 
as  individuals  than  to  put  everything  over  into  the  hands  of  infi- 
nite wisdom  and  goodness,  and  cheerfully  leave  the  issue  with 
Him  who  governs  all." 

In  allusion  to  the  Convention  at  Auburn,  which  was 
held  in  August  following  the  spring  of  1837,  and  com- 
posed of  representatives  of  the  exscinded  Synods,  and 
others  sympathizing  with  them,  he  says : 

"  Much  do  I  regret  that  there  was  any  occasion  for  such  a  mea- 
sure ;  but  I  hope  the  Lord  will  overrule  it  for  good.  Great  har- 
mony of  sentiment  and  feeling  prevailed  among  the  members  of 
the  Convention,  and  a  good  spirit,  I  trust,  towards  our  brethren  of 
the  Old  School.  They  have  acted,  we  think,  under  great  misap- 
prehension of  the  facts  in  the  case." 

In  November,  1838,  he  addressed  the  following  to 
Rev.  Joseph  C.  Stiles,  of  Kentucky,  in  answer  to  inqui- 
ries proposed  concerning  the  religious  doctrines  and 
order  of  the  "exscinded"  in  Central  and  Western  New 
York: 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  53 

NOVEMBER  13.  1838. 
To  the  Rev.  J.  C.  Stiles  : 

MY  DEAR  SIR — I  regret  that  my  engagements  will  not  allow 
me  to  give  you  a  full  and  detailed  account  of  the  eccbsiasiical 
affairs  of  Western  New  York.  All  I  can  do  is  briefly  to  reply  to 
your  several  queries.  You  asV.,  first,  What  is  the  degree  of  cor- 
ruption in  doctrine  and  order  around  me,  in  my  judgment. 

I  belong  to  the  Synod  of  Geneva,  which  embraces  two  hundred 
and  one  churches — one  hundred  and  forty  organized  with  a  session 
on  strictly  Presbyterian  principles,  and  sixty-one  which  have  no 
session,  but  which  make  use  of  our  Book  of  Discipline  in  their 
church  courts,  and  submit  their  acts  and  doings  to  the  supervision 
of  Presbytery  as  much  as  if  they  had  a  session.  They  are,  in  fact, 
Presbyterian  churches  with  a  defective  organization.  Instead  of 
doing  their  business  by  means  of  a  bench  of  Elders,  they  do  it  by 
assembling  the  male  communicants,  after  the  Congregational 
method.  One  of  our  Presbyteries,  which  has  under  its  care  thirty- 
nine  churches,  has  but  two  which  are  not  strictly  Presbyterian. 
Another,  embracing  twenty-five  churches,  has  not  a  single  church 
without  a  regular  session. 

Presbyterianism  is  popular  in  this  part  of  the  country,  and  with 
a  little  kind  and  prudent  management,  it  might  become  universal. 
Nothing  but  the  untimely  fears  and  mistaken  policy  of  some  of  the 
good  brethren  in  other  parts  of  the  church,  has  prevented  it  from 
becoming  far  more  prevalent  than  it  really  is. 

"  As  to  corruption  in  doctrine,  I  know  of  none  which  is  deep 
and  fundamental  among  the  ministers  and  churches  which  stand 
connected  with  our  Synod.  The  ministers  have  all  solemnly  pro- 
fessed to  receive  the  Confession  of  Faith,  and  the  Catechism  of 
our  church,  as  containing  that  system  of  doctrine  which  is  taught 
in  the  Holy  Scriptures.  At  the  same  time,  I  do  not  suppose  that 
they  consider  this  as  amounting  to  a  declaration  that  they  receive 
every  proposition  included  in  this  extended  confession,  but  such 
things  only  as  are  vital  to  the  system,  and  which  distinguish  it 
from  Arminianism,  Pelagianism  and  Semipelagianism.  They  be- 
lieve in  the  doctrine  of  total  depravity  by  nature — Regeneration  by 
the  Sovereign  and  efficacious  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit — Justifi  - 
cation  by  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  as  the  only  true  and  merito- 
rious cause — the  perseverance  of  the  saints,  and  the  interminable 
punishment  of  the  wicked.  They  have  no  scruple  about  the  doc- 
trine of  particular  and  personal  election,  but  maintain  it  firmly  as 


54  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

a  doctrine  of  the  Bible  which  ought  to  have  a  place  in  the  instruc- 
tions of  the  pulpit. 

"  As  to  our  churches,  their  opinions  may  be  learned  from  the 
brief  confessions  they  use  in  admitting  members  to  full  communion. 
It  is  the  custom  in  this  part  of  the  country,  when  a  person  is  ad- 
mitted to  the  fellowship  of  the  church  upon  his  own  confession,  to 
require  a  public  assent  to  a  creed  embracing  all  the  great  leading 
doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  as  well  as  his  solemn  and  explicit  engage- 
ment to  lead  a  life  of  devoted  piety.  It  is  common  for  each  Pres- 
bytery to  supervise  the  creeds  made  use  of  by  the  churches  under 
its  care.  Knowing  this  to  be  the  fact,  I  addressed  a  letter  to  each 
of  the  Presbyteries  in  the  bounds  of  the  four  exscinded  Synods,  re- 
questing them  to  state  whether  these  confessions,  employed  at  the 
admission  of  members  to  their  communion,  were  conformable  in 
their  tenor  and  spirit  to  the  Confession  of  Faith  and  Catechisms  of 
our  church,  desiring  them  at  the  same  time  to  send  me  a  sample 
of  them.  The  answer  I  received  was,  that  these  brief  formulas 
fully  accorded  with  the  Confession  of  Faith  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church.  I  have  now  before  me  twenty-six  of  these  confessions 
from  as  many  Presbyteries ;  and  if  I  have  any  judgment  as  to  what 
belongs  to  orthodoxy,  they  are  sound  as  a  roach,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  article  on  Atonement.  They  favor  the  idea  of  general 
atonement,  as  John  Calvin  and  the  early  Reformers  did.  Some, 
I  suppose,  would  regard  this  as  deviating  from  our  standards  ; 
but,  aside  from  this,  I  do  not  believe  that  Dr.  Green  himself  would 
find  any  fault  with  these  confessions.  I  say  this  confidently  with 
respect  to  them  all,  one  alone  excepted.  In  one  of  these  confes- 
sions there  was  not  so  full  a  recognition  of  the  Divine  decree  ex- 
tending to  all  events  absolutely  as  I  could  desire,  and  yet  the  lan- 
guage of  Scripture  was  employed,  which  asserts  that  God  governs 
or  works  all  things  after  the  counsel  of  his  own  will.*  Is  it  to 
be  supposed  that  ministers  would  demand,  or  the  people  from  time 
to  time  would  give  their  public  and  solemn  assent  to  these  confes- 
sions, if  they  were  very  far  gone  in  heretical  opinions  ?  Can  you 
get  people  in  our  Methodist  Churches  to  subscribe  to  strong  and 


*  Some  half  a  dozen  lines  are  here  omitted,  on  account  of  an  injury  done  to  the 
paper,  by  which  some  words  are  lost.  The  idee,  however,  is  this  :  "  These  con- 
fessions, instead  of  being  got  up  by  these  Presbyteries  to  defend  their  orthodoxy, 
have  been  adopted  to  govern  the  faith  of  the  churches  under  their  care,  and  to 
serve  as  bonds  of  Christian  fellowship." 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  55 

pointed  Calvinistic  formulas,  supposing  that  their  ministers  were 
willing-  and  desirous  that  they  should  1 

"  But  if  this  be  a  true  state  of  the  case,  whence  the  alarm  which 
has  pervaded  every  part  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  with  respect 
to  our  Aminianism,  Pelagianism,  Perfectionism,  and  I  know  not 
what.  Has  there  been  no  ground  for  the  fears  and  suspicions 
which  have  been  entertained  ]  I  cannot  conscientiously  say  that 
I  think  there  has  been  none.  A  state  of  things  has  existed  which 
excited  apprehensions  that  some  were  departing  from  the  faith  once 
delivered  to  the  saints. 

"  During  the  excitements  which  prevailed  under  the  labors  of 
Messrs.  Burchard  and  Finney,  and  their  associates,  things  were 
said  and  done  which  had  better  have  been  avoided.  A  new  style 
of  preaching  was  introduced,  new  measures  adopted  and  advocated, 
and,  occasionally,  new  opinions  advanced  touching  the  prayer  of 
faith,  the  method  of  the  Spirit's  influence  in  conversion,  and  the 
best  method  of  securing  that  influence  and  promoting  the  conver- 
sion of  sinners.  No  direct  encroachment,  however,  was  made 
upon  any  of  the  great  doctrines  of  the  Gospel.  These  were  cheer- 
fully admitted,  and  some  of  them  distinctly  and  powerfully  incul- 
cated. But  a  notion  was  imbibed  that  the  doctrine  of  election, 
and  of  the  sinner's  dependence  on  Divine  influence,  and  some 
other  doctrines  of  the  Calvinistic  system  had  heretofore  been  urged 
out  of  due  proportion,  and  that  more  ought  to  be  said  of  the  sin- 
ner's immediate  obligation  to  repent  and  believe.  In  pressing 
this  obligation,  they  urged  the  sinner's  entire  ability  to  comply 
with  the  terms  of  the  Gospel.  In  a  word,  they  taught  that  sinners 
could,  but  would  not,  repent  without  special  Divine  influence. 
Many  believed  then,  and  do  still  believe,  that  their  language  on 
this  subject  was  unguarded,  and  likely  to  produce  an  Arminian 
impression  on  the  hearer.  That  such  was  the  fact  in  numerous 
instances,  there  is  no  reason  to  question.  Some  of  Mr.  Finney's 
converts  doubted  whether  he  believed  in  the  doctrine  of  election, 
and  wrote  to  him,  while  he  was  in  Boston,  to  know  if  he  did.  He 
answered  that  he  did  believe  the  doctrine,  and  that  they  ought  to 
believe  it. 

"  From  the  manner,  however,  in  which  some  of  our  preachers 
at  that  time  presented  the  truths  of  the  Gospel,  and  especially 
from  the  fact  that  they  did  not  very  prominently  present  some  of 
them  at  all,  there  was  danger  that  an  Arminian  leaven  would  creep 
in,  and  corrupt  the  faith  of  the  churches.  This  danger  was  not 


56  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

lessened  by  the  speculations  of  the  New  Haven  divines,  and  by 
some  other  dubious  writings  from  New  England. 

"  After  all,  through  the  good  hand  of  God  upon  us,  I  do  not 
believe  that  any  radical  error  has  taken  root  among  us,  and  is 
likely  to  prevail.  I  speak  of  the  churches  in  our  own  connection. 
There  is  scattered  through  our  bounds  a  set  of  Christians  called 
Unionists,  who  hold  the  doctrine  of  sinless  perfection,  and  other 
absurd  notions.  But  they  are  not  of  us,  and  receive  no  counte- 
nance from  any  of  our  judicatories.  Were  you  to  ask  me  to  name 
the  minister  or  the  church  in  our  Synod  who  did  not  fully  and  un- 
qualifiedly believe  in  the  doctrine  of  the  total  depr.avity  of  human 
nature,  in  regeneration  by  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  per- 
sonal election  and  justification  by  faith  through  the  righteousness  of 
Christ  only,  I  could  not  do  it.  I  have  much  the  same  impressions, 
with  respect  to  the  Synods  of  Utica  and  Genesee,  and  the  Synod 
of  the  Western  Reserve  ;  but  I  am  not  as  well  acquainted  with 
the  members  of  these  Synods.  Still,  it  is  true  we  do  not  all  see 
eye  to  eye.  There  are  shades  of  difference  in  some  less  important 
matters.  What  these  are,  I  have  neither  time  nor  room  to  state 
to  you.  But  allow  me,  in  conclusion,  to  say,  that  in  my  judg- 
ment, there  never  was  a  greater  mistake,  than  that  under  which 
our  Old  School  brethren  are  laboring. 

"  1st.  As  to  the  prevalence  of  error  in  the  exscinded  Synods. 

"  2d.  As  to  its  cause.  The  state  of  belief  is  not  as  they  sup- 
pose it.  Nor  do  the  errors  which  have  been  supposed  to  exist  owe 
their  origin  to  any  such  cause  as  they  ascribe  them  to.  They  seem 
to  think  that  Congregationalism  has  done  all  the  mischief.  It  has 
had  no  more  influence  in  the  case  than  the  moons  of  Jupiter.  Our 
Congregational  Churches,  as  a  general  fact,  are  the  most  stable 
and  thorough  orthodox  churches  we  have.  But  my  sheet  is  full, 
and  I  have  only  room  to  say,  that  I  left  the  Constitutional  Assem- 
bly last  Spring,  from  ill  health  alone. 

"  With  much  affection,  I  am  truly  yours, 

«  JAMES  RICHARDS." 

It  may  be  proper  to  add,  that  the  schism  in  his  beloved 
church  never  seemed  to  diminish  his  love  for  either  of 
its  parts,  though  it  threw  his  sympathies  on  the  side  of 
the  exscinded.  In  relation  to  this  whole  matter,  he 
entertained  the  most  kind  and  conciliatory  spirit.  He 
loved  those  who  had  cut  him  off  from  their  body  as  though 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


57 


he  were  an  unworthy  and  gangrened  limb.  He  studiously 
avoided  everything  that  looked  like  impatience,  in  word 
and  deed.  Nor  did  he  feel  any  pride  in  the  appellation 
by  which  he  and  his  exscinded  brethren  were  distinguished 
from  others  from  whom  they  were  separated.  His  tem- 
per of  mind,  at  this  point,  is  happily  illustrated  by  the 
following  incident : 

An  aged  woman,  who  had  enjoyed  his  early  ministry, 
was  permitted  to  hear  him  preach  subsequent  to  the 
exscinding  acts.  As  she  was  walking  from  the  church, 
in  conversation  with  Mrs.  Richards,  she  inquired,  Is  Dr. 
Richards  an  Old  School  man  or  a  New  School  man  ? 
Mrs.  R.,  not  disposed  to  answer  the  question,  referred  it 
to  her  husband — when  he  replied,  "  My  dear,  I  hope  that 
I  belong  to  the  SCHOOL  OF  CHRIST." 

As  the  infirmities  of  age  increased,  Dr.  Richards  re- 
ceived great  pleasure,  in  view  of  the  brightening  pros- 
pects, and  increasing  influence  and  usefulness  of  the 
Seminary.  He  welcomed,  most  cordially,  his  brethren 
who,  from  time  to  time,  were  added  to  its  Board  of  In- 
struction ;  and  received,  with  the  sympathy  and  affection 
of  a  father,  the  young  men  who  came  to  enjoy  the  privi- 
leges which  it  furnished. 

In  October,  1839,  he  thus  writes : 

"  Dr.  Dickinson  and  Dr.  Halsey  are  both  on  the  ground.  The 
Seminary  seems  to  be  looking  up,  so  far  as  officers  and  students 
are  concerned.  The  professorships  are  all  filled  with  their  appro- 
priate incumbents,  and  a  large  class  of  new  students  have  entered." 

It  is  proper  to  add,  that  he  lived  to  see  the  Institution 
recovered  from  its  decline  in  the  number  of  its  pupils, 
and  enjoying  a  state  of  prosperity,  embarrassed  only  by 
want  of  adequate  funds. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  compiler  has  dwelt  much 
upon  the  care  and  labor  of  Dr.  Richards  in  behalf  of  the 
general  and  financial  interests  of  the  Seminary.  The 
4 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


reasons  for  this  are  the  following  :  1.  The  means  in  the 
hands  of  the  compiler,  from  which  any  connected  his- 
tory of  his  residence  at  Auburn  can  be  formed,  are 
chiefly  letters  written  by  himself  to  the  members  of 
his  own  family,  and  in  these  letters  he  refers  mainly 
to  the  general  interests  of  the  Seminary,  and  his  labors 
to  promote  them.  2.  The  character  of  Dr.  Richards^ 
simply  as  a  professor  or  teacher  in  the  Seminary,  will  be 
given  in  another  place  ;  and  3.  His  character  and  influ- 
ence in  all  his  relations  to  the  Institution  could  not  be 
made  known  to  the  public,  only  by  a  course  similar  to 
the  one  we  have  pursued. 

Nominally,  Dr.  Richards  held  no  pre-eminence  in  the 
Faculty  of  the  Seminary,  yet,  virtually,  he  was  the  pre- 
siding officer.  Nor  was  this  all.  While  his  health  per- 
mitted he  was  more  abundant  in  his  labors  as  a  traveling 
soliciting  agent,  than  his  brethren.  He  was  also,  to  all 
intents,  both  the  Corresponding  Secretary  and  Treasurer 
of  the  Board  of  Instruction  until  the  day  of  his  death. 
This  responsibility  was  not  assumed  or  coveted,  but  it 
was  referred  to  him  by  his  associates,  not  only  because 
their  own  tastes  and  habits  inclined  them  to  other  forms 
of  service,  but  as  the  result  of  their  conviction,  that  his 
great  influence  abroad,  his  power  of  appeal,  his  accurate 
knowledge  of  the  history  and  wants  of  the  institution, 
his  careful  business  habits  and  most  rigid  punctuality, 
peculiarly  fitted  him  for  these  various  duties. 


CHAPTER   V. 


LAST    SICKNESS    AND    DEATH. 

FOR  several  months  previous  to  his  decease,  the  health 
of  Dr.  Richards  declined  gradually,  though  there  were  in- 
tervals when  it  seemed  to  improve.  He  had  long  enter- 
tained the  belief  that  he  was  laboring  under  a  disease  of  the 
heart,  and  the  remedies  to  which  he  resorted  were  chosen 
with  reference  to  such  a  belief.  But  a  post-mortem  ex- 
amination showed  that  his  disease  had  affected  mainly 
the  stomach,  having  materially  diminished  the  natural 
dimensions  of  that  important  organ.  Perhaps  this  may 
account  for  a  gradual  loss  of  flesh  to  which  he  was  sub- 
ject, and  to  which  he  often  alluded  in  his  correspond- 
ence, even  during  those  intervals  when  his  health  ap- 
peared in  some  respects  to  be  improving.  He  was 
subject,  at  times,  to  a  determination  of  blood  to  the 
head,  and  of  "subsequent  suspension  of  arterial  ac- 
tion." In  the  autumn  of  1842,  while  walking  in  the 
village  of  Auburn,  he  was  suddenly  seized,  and  fell  upon 
the  pavement,  and  was  taken  up  in  a  state  of  almost 
entire  insensibility.  From  this  shock  he  never  entirely 
recovered,  and  he  regarded  it  as  a  new  "sentence  of 
death  "  passed  upon  him  by  the  voice  of  Providence.  It 
became  the  occasion  of  manifest  sanctification,  and  there 
is  reason  to  believe  that  it  contributed  essentially  to  his 
diligence  in  setting  his  house  in  order,  and  becoming 
"  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light."  In  a 
letter  written  at  this  time  he  says : 

"  My  chief  concern  is,  to  have  my  house  in  order  in  relation  to 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


both  worlds.     Never  did  the  Bible  appear  so  precious  to  me  as 
during   this  sickness.      O  that  I  4had  studied  its  precious  pages 


While  thus  afflicted  with  bodily  infirmities  he  became 
the  subject  of  a  most  painful  bereavement  in  the  death 
of  his  eldest  child,  Mrs.  Beach,  which  occurred  at  New- 
ark, New  Jersey,  on  the  13th  of  December.  He  loved 
this  daughter,  not  only  as  his  first-born,  but  for  the  great 
excellence  of  her  character.  When  the  tidings  of  her 
death  reached  him  he  rose  instantly  from  his  seat,  and 
with  burdened  heart  and  moistened  eye,  and  hand  raised 
toward  heaven,  exclaimed,  "My  daughter  !  my  first-born, 
and  the  beginning  of  my  strength,  the  excellency  of  dignity 
and  the  excellency  of  power  !  THOU  ART  GONE  TO  HEAVEN 

AND   I   SHALL   MEET    THEE    THERE." 

This  affliction,  so  heavy,  so  sudden,  and  coming  at  a 
time  when  his  health  was  feeble,  the  bereaved  father  at 
first  seemed  hardly  able  to  bear.  He  entertained  appre- 
hensions that  his  frame  would  sink  under  it.  He  there- 
fore requested  that  his  family  would  forbear  all  expres- 
sions of  grief  in  his  presence,  that  he  might  avoid  the 
accumulation  of  sorrow  which  the  power  of  sympathy 
might  occasion.  After  the  lapse  of  a  few  days,  in  a 
letter  to  his  eldest  son,  he  notices  the  death  of  this 
daughter  as  follows : 

"  I  need  not  say,  that  in  the  death  of  your  dear  sister  we  feel 
ourselves  sorely  bereaved.  It  is  an  exceedingly  dark  and  trying 
dispensation  of  Divine  Providence,  and  is  well  calculated  to  teach 
us  what  an  empty  and  uncertain  portion  the  world  is.  *  * 
Our  dear  A has  been  torn  from  us  and  her  beloved  fam- 
ily, suddenly  and  unexpectedly — but  not,  I  trust,  without  being 
essentially  prepared.  She  has  for  thirty  years  given  the  most 
abundant  proof  that  her  piety  was  sincere.  Very  few  were  so 
conscientious,  so  consistent  and  uniform,  as  she.  Her  meekness 
and  gentleness,  her  humility  and  self-denial,  told  us  of  whose 
spirit  she  had  drunk,  and  in  whose  steps  she  was  treading.  I 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


61 


have  not  a  particle  of  doubt  that  she  has  gone  to  be  with  Christ, 
which  is  far  better.  This  greatly  consoles  us  ;  but  the  event  has 
fallen  out  under  God's  government,  which  is  still  a  higher  and 
stronger  reason  for  our  submission.  May  it  please  the  Lord  to 
sanctify  this  visitation  to  us  all." 

During  the  winter  and  spring  his  health,  though  pre- 
carious, was  somewhat  improved,  and  he  was  able  to 
give  considerable  attention  to  his  duties  as  a  professor. 
He  did  not,  however,  intermit  that  direct  preparation  for 
the  close  of  his  earthly  cares,  to  which  his  mind  had  for 
several  months  been  particularly  turned.  In  April, 
when  his  youngest  son  was  paying  him  a  visit,  he  or- 
dered his  horse  and  carriage,  and  invited  him  to  ride 
with  him.  The  object,  as  the  event  proved,  was  to 
secure  an  opportunity  for  a  free  and  full  communication 
of  his  views  and  feelings,  and  for  imparting  to  his  son 
the  counsels  of  a  father's  heart.  He  remarked,  on  this 
occasion,  that  he  had  survived  nearly  all  who  commenced 
life  with  him,  and  that,  in  all  probability,  he  was  near 
his  journey's  end.  He  spoke  with  much  emotion  of 
God's  dealings  with  him — of  the  way  in  which  he  had 
been  led — and  of  the  "  mercy  and  truth  "  which  God 
had  shown  him  in  the  various  and  responsible  relations 
which  he  had  been  called  to  sustain.  He  referred,  with 
peculiar  feeling,  to  the  infirmities  and  sins  which  had 
attached  themselves  even  to  his  ministry;  and  said  that, 
after  all  he  had  tried  to  do  for  God  and  his  kingdom,  his 
hope  of  acceptance  was  founded  solely  on  the  "  boundless 
riches "  of  Divine  mercy  in  the  Gospel.  "  Before  the 
interview  closed  he  turned  to  me,"  says  his  son,  "  and 
fixing  his  eye  intently  on  me,  said,  I  want  you,  my  son, 
to  be  a  holier  man  and  a  more  useful  man,  than  I  have  ever 
been." 

On  the  27th  of  this  month  he  addressed  a  letter  to  his 
eldest  son  at  Poughkeepsie,  who  had  just  lost  a  beloved 
child — a  lad  of  thirteen  years — by  drowning.  The  loss 


62  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

of  this  son,  and  the  circumstances  of  his  death,  had 
deeply  agonized  the  heart  of  the  father,  and  spread 
gloom  over  the  family.  The  boat,  containing  the  child 
and  his  elder  brother,  had  upset  in  the  father's  presence; 
and  as  he  stood  upon  the  shore,  his  two  sons  were 
struggling  in  the  water  and  cleaving  to  the  boat  for  life. 
Unable  to  give  personal  aid,  he  ran  and  cried  for  the 
help  of  others,  but  when  he  returned  the  youngest  boy 
had  sunk  to  rise  no  more.  The  body  remained  in  the 
river  for  several  days.  The  following  is  the  substance 
of  the  letter  written  by  Dr.  Richards  to  his  afflicted  son 
on  this  occasion : 

"  A  letter  from  your  brother  Edward  informs  us  that  the  body  of 
dear  little  Henry  had  not  then  been  found — a  circumstance  which 
naturally  augments  your  trial,  and  prolongs  its  anguish.  But  this, 
too,  is  a  part  of  God's  wise  design — a  thing  determined  from  eternity, 
and  without  which  his  scheme  of  government  would  be  less  per- 
fect. How  gladly  would  I  be  with  you,  in  this  hour  of  darkness 
and  sorrow,  but  the  state  of  my  health  forbids.  *  *  My  prayer 
to  God  is,  that  he  will  be  with  and  sustain  you.  It  is  infinitely 
easy  for  him  to  pour  such  a  flood  of  light  and  peace  into  your 
mind,  as  not  only  to  soften  the  anguish  of  your  spirit,  and  enable 
you  to  bear  without  a  murmur  what  he  is  pleased  to  lay  upon  you, 
but  even  to  rejoice  that  he  reigns  and  does  all  his  pleasure,  through 
all  places  of  his  dominion,  leaving  no  one  circumstance  uncon- 
trolled and  undirected  by  him.  Try,  my  dear  son,  to  come  near 
to  him,  and  pour  your  sorrows  into  his  bosom.  He  has  a  father's 
heart  infinitely  more  tender  than  that  of  any  earthly  parent.  He 
never  mistakes  either  the  means  of  our  correction,  the  time,  or  the 
measure.  You  may,  with  great  confidence,  cast  all  your  care  upon 
him,  and  roll  your  burdens  on  his  arm.  *  *f  0  that  these 
repeated  strokes  of  affliction  might  have  their  proper  effect,  by 
working  in  us  the  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness,  and  working 
out  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory !" 

During  the  same  month  he  addressed  the  following 
letter  to  his  brother  Abraham  Richards,  of  the  city  of 
New  York,  who  had  just  been  bereaved  of  his  wife : 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  gg 

*  *  "  We  have  heard  of  your  great  affliction,  in  the  death 
of  our  dear  sister,  highly  esteemed  and  beloved  by  us  all.  More 
you  could  not  lose  in  any  earthly  friend.  She  was  all,  to  you  and 
her  dear  family,  that  could  be  expected  or  desired.  There  are  few 
such  wives  and  mothers  in  our  imperfect  world,  with  a  heart  so 
tender,  and  a  discretion  so  sound.  She  was,  indeed,  everybody's 
friend,  and  has  left  behind  her  an  imperishable  memorial  of  her 
universal  and  disinterested  benevolence.  *  *  It  is  past  all  doubt, 
that  she  has  gone  to  be  with  her  Saviour — and  them  that  sleep  in 
Jesus  will  God  bring  with  him.  You  will  naturally  feel  that  you 
needed  her  to  accompany  you  in  the  few  remaining  steps  of  life's 
journey  ;  but  God  knows  what  is  best  for  us  and  those  we  love. 
Submission  to  his  will  is  equally  our  interest  and  our  duty.  You 
and  I  must  both  feel  that  the  morning  cloud  has  veered  far  to  the 
west,  and  will  soon  disappear.  It  is  high  time  for  us  to  think 
much  and  well  upon  the  hour  which  will  separate  us  from  this 
world,  and  fix  our  destiny  for  an  unceasing  hereafter."  *  *  * 

In  the  month  of  July,  and  about  two  weeks  before  his 
death,  he  held  another  conversation  with  his  youngest  son, 
who  was  again  providentially  at  home,  and  who  describes 
the  interview  as  follows : — "  It  was  short  and  uninter- 
rupted ;  but  the  few  broken  intervals  then  enjoyed  he 
embraced  to  impart  his  paternal  counsel,  as  if  conscious 
that  his  end  was  near.  Unusual  solemnity  and  fervor 
characterized  his  words  of  benediction,  as  they  fell  from 
his  quivering  lips  on  my  taking  leave  of  him." 

It  was  a  custom  with  him  and  his  colleagues  to  pass 
the  Sabbath  evening  together  in  the  exercises  of  religious 
devotion.  On  the  Sabbath  evening  previous  to  the  last 
which  he  spent  on  earth,  he  and  one  of  his  associates  in 
the  faculty,  had  been  engaged  in  an  animated  inter- 
change of  views  and  feelings  with  regard  to  the  privi- 
leges and  hopes  of  believers  both  living  and  dying,  when 
it  was  proposed  to  close  the  interview  with  prayer.  In 
this  exercise,  Dr.  Richards  enjoyed  unwonted  freedom 
and  enlargement.  The  windows  of  heaven  were  opened, 
and  the  tongue  of  the  suppliant  was  loosed.  He  seemed 


64  BIOGRAPHICAL     SKETCH. 

to  recall  everything  which  ought  to  be  remembered  in 
supplication  with  the  greatest  facility,  and  he  poured  out 
his  soul  before  God  like  water.  The  Seminary — the 
Church  of  Christ — the  salvation  of  souls — his  own  family, 
including  a  son  absent  on  the  ocean — the  conversion  of 
the  world — were  all  remembered  in  the  comprehensive- 
ness and  the  fervency  of  his  supplication.  "  It  seemed," 
said  his  colleague,  "  that  it  was  the  last  prayer  I  should  hear 
him  utter:"  and  so  it  proved.  Yet  with  all  these  indica- 
tions of  being  "  quite  on  the  verge  oV  heaven/'  there  is 
reason  to  suppose  that  he  did  not  himself  apprehend  that 
his  end  was  so  near.  Though  on  the  eve  of  spreading 
his  pinions  to  fly  away  and  be  at  rest  with  God,  he  knew 
it  not.  His  infirmities  had  brought  him  to  the  determi- 
nation, however,  to  resign  the  chair  of  Christian  Theo- 
logy in  the  Seminary,  at  the  anniversary  w^hich  was  to 
take  place  about  the  middle  of  the  ensuing  month.  In 
pursuance  of  this  design,  he  penned  a  letter  to  his  young- 
est son,  intimating  that  important  business  would  come 
before  the  Board  of  Commissioners,  at  their  approaching 
session,  and  bespeaking  his  attendance  as  a  member  of 
the  Board.  This  letter,  written  but  eight  days  before 
his  death,  contained  no  mention  of  unusual  indisposition, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  expressions  of  gratitude  that  he 
had  endured  the  warm  season  thus  far  so  well,  and  had 
been  able  to  discharge,  with  so  much  uniformity,  his  offi- 
cial duties.  But  God's  ways  are  not  as  man's.  His  ser- 
vant was  to  be  released  from  his  official  duties,  though 
not  in  the  manner  which  he  contemplated.  He  had  al- 
ways regarded  it  as  desirable  to  die,  as  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  say,  "  with  his  armor  on,  and  at  the  head  of 
his  troops."  This  honor  God  had  determined  to  give 
him.  From  the  date  of  his  last  letter  to  his  son,  to  which 
allusion  has  been  made,  he  complained  more  of  debility. 
On  Saturday  he  was  attacked  with  a  bowel  complaint, 
which  materially  reduced  his  strength,  and  became  an  oc- 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  ^ 

casion  of  anxiety  to  his  family.  But,  though  feeble,  he  did 
not  think  it  needful  to  keep  his  room.  On  the  afternoon 
of  that  day,  at  the  instance  of  some  of  the  young  men  in 
the  Seminary,  who  proposed  to  furnish  him  a  convey- 
ance, he  prepared  himself  to  go  out  and  meet  the  Hon. 
J.  Q.  Adams,  who  was  to  visit  Auburn  at  that  time. 
The  effort  to  secure  a  conveyance  having,  however, 
failed,  he  quietly  submitted  to  forego  the  pleasure  of  see- 
ing Mr.  Adams,  remarking,  at  the  same  time,  that  he 
had  "  used  more  exertion  to  behold  the  face  of  that  hon- 
est republican  than  he  would  have  made  to  look  upon 
the  face  of  a  king." 

Near  the  close  of  the  day,  he  visited  a  new  dwelling 
which  he  had  been  erecting,  and  which  had  just  been 
completed.  He  surveyed  carefully  every  apartment  from 
the  garret  to  the  cellar ;  and  when  about  to  retire,  he 
planted  his  foot  impressively  upon  the  floor,  and  said  to 
the  builder:  This  will  do — this  will  do.  He  had  erected 
this  edifice,  in  anticipation  of  retiring  soon  from  his  office 
as  Professor;  and  as  a  home  for  his  family  when  he 
should  be  "gathered  to  his  fathers."  And  that  this 
house  should  be  completed  just  in  time  to  secure  his 
survey  and  approbation,  as  the  last  business  transaction 
of  his  life,  and  should  offer  a  new  home  to  his  family, 
just  at  the  time  when  the  close  of  his  official  relations 
deprived  them  of  another,  will  be  noticed  by  devout 
minds  as  an  arrangement  of  a  kind  Providence,  worthy 
of  admiration.  He  had  been  requested  to  conduct  the 
religious  exercises  of  the  chapel  in  the  Seminary,  on  the 
next  day  (Sabbath)  and  retired  early,  with  a  view  to 
acquire,  by  rest,  sufficient  strength  for  the  anticipated 
labor ;  but  when  the  Sabbath  came,  he  was  unable  to 
leave  his  house.  On  the  following  morning,  one  ; of  his 
classes  came  in  a  body  to  his  house,  with  a  view  to  reci- 
tation. He  met  them  at  the  door  and  excused  himself 
for  the  time,  but  intimated  his  hope  that  he  should  be 


(56  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

able  to  meet  them  on  the  morrow.  But  the  venerable 
man  had  given  his  last  lecture — had  conducted  his  last 
recitation.  As  the  day  drew  near  to  its  close,  and  while 
he  was  engaged  in  conversation  with  one  of  his  col- 
leagues, he  was  seized  suddenly  with  a  severe  chill,  his 
strength  failed,  and  even  a  change  passed  over  his  coun- 
tenance, leaving  an  unwonted  aspect,  which  continued 
to  the  last.  From  this  time,  his  articulation  became  im- 
paired, and  he  took  little  notice  of  what  was  passing 
around  him.  His  reason,  however,  did  not  leave  him. 
On  Tuesday  evening  it  was  intimated  to  Mrs.  Richards 
by  her  daughter,  that  she  had  better  retire  for  a  season, 
and  obtain  a  little  rest.  The  proposal  attracted  his  no- 
tice, and  as  if  sensible  that  the  hour  of  his  release  was 
near,  and  the  watchings  of  his  family  almost  at  an  end, 
he  said  with  an  audible  voice  :  My  dear,  you  must  not 
leave  me — you  must  not  leave  me.  He  said  no  more. 
Such  of  his  wants  as  friends  could  supply  he  continued 
to  indicate  by  appropriate  signs  ;  and  when  his  friends 
could  do  no  more,  he  signified  that  his  remaining 
wants  were  abundantly  supplied  from  the  "river  that 
proceedeth  from  the  throne  of  God,  and  the  Lamb."  He 
lingered  until  daybreak,  when  he  ceased  to  breathe. 
Death  was  not  only  stingless,  but  it  had  no  power  to 
create  a  pang,  or  extort  a  groan.  The  soul  left  its  tab- 
ernacle in  a  manner,  as  noiseless  as  the  whisper  which 
said,  "  Sister  spirit,  come  away,"  or  the  motion  of  the 
angel's  wing  on  which  it  was  wafted  to  Heaven. 

"  How  blest  the  righteous  when  they  die, 
When  holy  souls  retire  to  rest ! 
How  mildly  beams  the  closing  eye, 
How  gently  heaves  the  expiring  breast. 


So  fades  a  summer  cloud  away, 

So  sinks  the  gale  when  storms  are  o'er, 

So  gently  shuts  the  eye  of  day, 

So  dies  a  wave  along  the  shore." 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  £7 

In  view  of  the  mournful  event  which  had  deprived 
them  of  a  much-loved  teacher  and  friend,  the  students 
of  the  Seminary,  at  a  public  meeting  held  on  the  4th  of 
August,  passed,  among  others,  the  following  resolu- 
tions : 

"Resolved,  That  while  our  grief  at  the  death  of  our  venerated 
Professor  of  Christian  Theology  is  tempered  by  the  recollection  of 
his  long  and  useful  life,  and  the  confident  hope  that  he  is  present 
with  Christ,  we  cannot  but  feel  that,  as  members  of  this  institution, 
we  have  suffered  a  loss  of  which  it  were  useless  to  attempt  an  ade- 
quate expression.  But  we  may  be  permitted,  in  common  with  all 
who  knew  him,  to  express  our  conviction  that  in  his  death  the 
cause  of  sound  Christian  Theology  has  lost  one  of  its  ablest  vindi- 
cators, and  the  practice  of  Christian  virtue  one  of  its  brightest 
exemplars. 

"  Resolved,  That  to  the  afflicted  family  and  near  friends  of  the 
deceased  we  tender  our  heartfelt  commiseration,  with  the  assurance 
that  our  sorrow,  though  it  cannot  be  as  great  as  theirs,  is  not  the 
grief  of  strangers,  but  in  kind  like  their  own ;  for  we  can  truly  say 
that  he  was  a  father  to  us  all. 

"  Resolved,  That  we  attend  his  funeral  as  mourners,  and  wear 
the  usual  badge  of  mourning  for  thirty  days." 

On  the  same  day  his  funeral  was  attended  by  a  large 
concourse  of  citizens  and  friends,  in  the  Second  Presby- 
terian Church,  where  an  appropriate  sermon  was  deliv- 
ered by  Dr.  Mills,  the  oldest  surviving  Professor  in  the 
Seminary,  from  Acts  xiii.  36 :  "  After  he  had  served  his 
own  generation  by  the  will  of  God,  [he]  fell  on  sleep." 

The  intelligence  of  the  death  of  Dr.  Richards  created 
a  strong  and  painful  sensation.  The  friends  of  the  Semi- 
nary not  only,  but  the  Christian  public,  felt  that  a  great 
man  had  fallen  in  Israel.  Both  at  Morristown  and  New- 
ark, where  he  had  labored  in  the  ministry,  the  pastors 
preached  with  reference  to  his  death. 


68  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Commissioners,  convened 
on  the  16th  of  the  same  month,  the  following  minute 
was  adopted,  and  ordered  to  be  published : 

"  Whereas,  it  hath  pleased  Almighty  God,  in  his  sovereign  and 
holy  providence,  to  remove  by  death  the  Rev.  James  Richards, 
D.D.,  Professor  of  Christian  Theology  in  this  institution — 

"  Resolved,  That  while  in  the  removal,  at  this  peculiar  juncture, 
of  so  able,  faithful  and  successful  an  instructor  of  the  pupils  of  this 
Seminary  in  revealed  truth,  we  feel  and  submit  to  the  chastening 
hand  of  God,  both  upon  ourselves  and  upon  the  institution,  we  do,  at 
the  same  time,  believe  it  to  be  our  duty  and  privilege  to  remember 
with  gratitude  his  great  goodness  in  continuing  the  valuable  ser- 
vices of  the  deceased  for  such  a  number  of  years,  and  to  such  an 
advanced  period  of  life. 

"  Resolved,  That  this  Board  do  hereby  tender  to  the  bereaved 
widow  and  family  of  the  deceased  our  affectionate  sympathy,  while 
we  confidently  commend  them  to  the  care  and  keeping  of  that 
God  who  has  revealed  himself  as  the  widow's  God  and  the  father 
of  the  fatherless." 

On  the  same  day  the  following,  among  other  resolu- 
tions, were  unanimously  adopted,  at  a  meeting  of  the 
Alumni  of  the  Seminary: 

"  Resolved,  That  while  we  would  not,  if  we  could,  call  back 
our  revered  friend  and  instructor  from  his  exalted  and  triumphant 
state,  we  nevertheless  greatly  mourn  his  loss,  as  one  endeared  to 
us  by  recollections  of  his  kind  and  gentlemanly  deportment  towards 
us  when  his  pupils,  and  the  deep  interest  he  ever  manifested  in 
our  highest  qualifications  for  the  sacred  office ;  also  by  considera- 
tions of  his  high  moral  and  intellectual  worth,  of  his  great  ability 
and  unwearied  assiduity  as  a  teacher  of  theology ,  and  of  the  dignity, 
prudence  and  skill  with  which  he  presided  over  this  institution, 
especially  in  seasons  of  adversity  and  trial. 

"  Resolved,  That,  as  an  expression  of  our  deep  respect  for  the 
venerated  dead,  we  take  immediate  measures  to  erect  a  suitable 
monument  to  his  memory." 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


69 


In  pursuance  of  the  last  resolution,  a  beautiful  monu- 
ment was  erected  within  the  space  of  a  few  months,  of 
the  sarcophagus  form,  and  containing  the  following  in- 
scription : 


OF 

THE    REV.    JAMES    RICHARDS,    D.D. 

BORN    IN    NEW    CANAAN,    CONN.,    OCT.    29TH,    1767. 

ORDAINED    AND     INSTALLED    PASTOR    OF    THE    FIRST    PRESBYTERIAN 
CHURCH    IN    MORRISTOWN,    N.  J.,    1794. 

INSTALLED    PASTOR  OF   THE    FIRST  PRESBYTERIAN    CHURCH    IN    NEW- 
ARK,   N.    J.,    1809. 

INAUGURATED    PROFESSOR    OF    CHRISTIAN    THEOLOGY    IN    THE    THEO- 
LOGICAL   SEMINARY    OF    AUBURN,    N.    Y.,    1823. 

DIED    AUGUST    2,    1843. 


is  on 


The  Alumni  of  the  Seminary  join  with  the  Family  of  the 
Deceased  in  erecting  this  Monument  to  Departed  Worth. 


CHAPTER    VI. 


NOTICES  OF  HIS  CHARACTER  AND  INFLUENCE  IN  VARIOUS  RELATIONS. 

THE  person  of  Dr.  Richards  was  well  suited  to  intro- 
duce him  to  the  respect  of  others.  His  frame  was  tall  and 
commanding.  The  features  and  expression  of  his  coun- 
tenance constituted  no  uncertain  index  either  of  his 
strength  of  intellect  or  kindness  of  heart.  Many  have 
remarked,  that  "  Dr.  Richards  was  one  of  nature's  no- 
blemen." His  manly  form,  his  dignified  movement,  his 
intelligent  and  benignant  countenance,  and  his  gentle 
and  affectionate  address,  could  not  fail  to  secure  the  ad- 
miration of  those  who  are  willing  to  "  give  honor  to 
whom  honor  is  due."  "  When  he  went  out  to  the  gate 
through  the  city,  the  young  men  hid  themselves,  and  the 
aged  arose  and  stood  up.  *  *  *  When  the  ear  heard 
him,  then  it  blessed  him,  and  when  the  eye  saw  him  it 
gave  witness  to  him." 

The  social  character  of  Dr.  Richards  was  marked  by 
much  simplicity,  frankness,  patience,  kindness  and  integ- 
rity. He  was  a  friend  in  whom  "  the  heart  doth  safely 
trust ;"  a  husband  affectionate  and  devoted ;  a  father 
that  "  provoked  not  his  children  to  wrath,  but  brought 
them  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord." 
In  his  business  relations,  he  "  owed  no  man  anything ;" 
in  his  relations  to  the  State,  he  claimed  his  rights  as  a 
citizen,  and  led  "  a  peaceable  life  in  all  godliness  and 
honesty  ;"  as  a  pastor  and  teacher,  he  was  "  kind,  and 
easy  to  be  entreated." 

The  uprightness  of  Dr.  Richards  was  well  nigh  pro- 
verbial. In  matters  of  worldly  business,  he  both  avoided 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  ^1 

and  despised  a  mean  and  dishonest  transaction.  Next 
to  vital  godliness,  did  the  exhibition  of  practical  honesty 
give  him  pleasure.  I  may  here  relate  an  incident,  in 
connection  with  his  history,  the  remembrance  of  which 
he  cherished  with  much  interest,  as  a  happy  illustration 
of  sterling  integrity. 

While  at  Newark,  his  brother,  Silas  Richards,  then  a 
successful  merchant  in  Liverpool,  England,  proposed  to 
furnish  him  a  valuable  accession  to  his  library.  To  se- 
cure, however,  a  selection  of  books  suited  to  the  wants 
of  a  clergyman,  he  placed  a  sum  of  money  at  the  dispo- 
sal of  his  pastor,  Dr.  Raffles,  a  name  which  has  been  long 
and  favorably  known  in  this  country,  and  desired  him  to 
procure  the  books.  In  compliance  with  the  request,  Dr. 
Raffles  procured  and  forwarded  a  large  number  of  choice 
literary,  as  well  as  standard  theological  works,  of  his 
own  country.  After  the  lapse  of  nearly  a  quarter  of  a 
century,  he  found,  accidentally,  that  a  small  balance  was 
still  standing  to  the  credit  of  his  friend.  He  immedi- 
ately put  principal  and  interest  together,  and  sent  the 
value  in  books  to  Dr.  Richards,  thus  accomplishing  the 
liberal  intention  of  the  donor,  and  gratifying  the  object 
of  the  benefactions,  both  in  their  reception  and  in  the 
beautiful  exemplification  of  a  rigid  integrity  on  the  part 
of  his  brother  in  the  ministry.  Upon  a  mind  formed  like 
that  of  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  such  incidents  make 
impressions  never  to  be  forgotten.  He  lamented  deeply 
the  prevalence  of  principles  in  the  commercial  world, 
with  which  the  honesty  taught  in  the  Bible  has  no  sym- 
pathy ;  and  no  man  could  forfeit  his  confidence  sooner, 
than  by  even  a  slight  deviation  from  the  path  of  practi- 
cal uprightness. 

While  a  lover  and  an  exemplar  of  justice,  he  also 
loved  and  practiced  the  virtues  of  benignity  and  kind- 
ness. In  nothing  was  this  manifest,  more  than  in  those 
relations  in  which  he  was  regarded  as  the  superior.  If 


72  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

invested  with  the  authority  of  the  teacher,  the  dignity 
of  his  position  became  the  occasion  for  condescension 
and  kindness — never  for  coldness  and  reserve.  He  re- 
garded a  high  position  chiefly  for  the  opportunities  it 
furnished  for  doing  good.  Says  a  former  pupil,  "  He 
was  the  humble,  tender-hearted,  sympathizing  friend, 
rather  than  the  cold,  assured,  self-sufficient  professor." 
Says  another : 

"  There  is  one  peculiarity  in  the  character  of  Dr.  Richards, 
which  I  think  deserves  special  notice.  I  refer  to  his  tender  and 
affectionate  sympathy  for  the  young  men  placed  under  his  instruc- 
tion. In  all  his  intercourse  with  them,  whether  in  the  lecture-room, 
or  elsewhere,  while  he  ever  maintained  the  dignity  becoming  his 
station,  he  at  the  same  time  made  them  feel  at  ease,  and  allowed 
them  that  unembarrassed  freedom  of  discussion  and  inquiry,  which 
greatly  tended  to  elicit  and  impress  truth,  remove  ignorance  and 
prejudice,  and  render  his  instructions  at  once  acceptable  and  profit- 
able. 

"  And  when  the  poor  and  friendless  student  needed  counsel, 
he  found  easy  and  welcome  access  to  the  heart  of  his  beloved 
teacher  ;  and  when  any  of  his  pupils  were  afflicted  with  spiritual 
trials,  and  troubled  with  doubts  and  solicitudes,  they  had  no-  diffi- 
culty in  approaching  Dr.  Richards,  and  found  him  ever  ready  to 
sympathize  with  them,  and  prompt  to  minister  such  consolation 
and  advice  as  the  circumstances  of  the  case  seemed  to  require." 

• 

Dr.  Richards  also  loved  to  bend  himself  to  all  the  fa- 
miliarities and  charities  of  domestic  life ;  and  while  he 
maintained  the  dignity  of  the  Christian,  and  the  Chris- 
tian Minister,  yet  no  man  found  higher  enjoyment  in  the 
appropriate  and  affectionate  reciprocities  of  the  family 
relations.  He  was  the  companion,  as  well  as  the  hus- 
band and  the  father,  in  the  domestic  circle.  For  nearly 
half  a  century  he  and  his  wife  traveled  life's  journey 
together,  in  obedience  to  the  vows,  and  in  the  enjoyment 
of  the  rich  and  appropriate  blessings,  of  the  marriage 
covenant,  as  well  as  "  heirs  together  of  the  grace  of 
life." 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


73 


But  we  shall  take  occasion  to  dwell  particularly  upon 
the  character  of  Dr.  Richards  in  the  parental  relation. 
The  writer  is  led  to  this  the  more,  from  the  peculiar 
admiration  created  in  his  own  mind  of  this  character,  as 
developed  in  his  written  correspondence  with  his  children. 

It  may  be  proper  to  furnish  the  reader  with  some  ex- 
tracts from  a  few  of  the  many  letters  which  Dr.  Rich- 
ards addressed  to  his  children.  It  may  also  aid  the 
reader  if  wre  announce  the  subject  to  which  each  extract 
particularly  relates. 

TO    HIS   SECOND    DAUGHTER. 

Theatre  going. — "  You  correctly  judged  that  I  should  be  pleased 
to  learn  that  one  visit  to  the  theatre  was  sufficient  to  satisfy  you, 
and  more  than  to  satisfy.  Whatever  maybe  said  of  that  species  of 
amusement,  it  is  an  undoubted  truth,  that  it  will  always  adapt 
itself  to  the  corruptions  of  mankind,  either  more  covertly  or  more 
openly,  and  ultimately  tend  to  make  a  depraved  world  more  de- 
praved." 

TO    HIS   ELDEST   SON. 

Entering  College. — "  You  have  now  left  your  father's  house, 
perhaps  never  to  return  to  it  as  a  permanent  residence.  It  is  im- 
possible for  me  to  express  the  solicitude  which  I  feel  for  your  wel- 
fare. *  *  Having  mingled  but  little  with  men,  you  are  not  yet 
aware  of  the  force  of  corrupt  example,  nor  into  how  many  snares 
you  may  be  led  by  the  strength  of  your  own  passions,  and  by  the 
enticements  of  those  who  are  willing  to  see  others  as  abandoned 
as  themselves.  With  all  the  tenderness  of  parental  affection,  let 
me  entreat  you  to  have  but  few  acquaintances  ;  and  let  those  few 
be  select,  such  as  you  are  assured  will  be  of  no  disservice  to  you, 
either  in  the  pursuit  of  your  studies  or  in  your  moral  deportment. 
Be  attentive  to  the  order  and  regulations  of  college.  Never  ab- 
sent yourself  from  recitations  or  prayers.  Much  will  depend  upon 
your  beginning  well,  and  forming  habits  at  the  outset  which  will 
be  creditable  to  you  among  the  students,  and  secure  the  confidence 
of  the  Faculty.  And  having  made  a  good  beginning,  persevere. 
Your  collegiate  course  will  be  likely  to  stamp  your  character 
through  life.  *  *  I  would  earnestly  recommend  it  to  you  to 
husband  your  time.  *  *  As  to  your  moral  deportment,  let  it 
5 


74  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

be  scrupulously  correct,  and  framed  upon  the  principles  of  the 
Gospel.  *  *  Two  things  I  most  earnestly  request — that  you 
will  never  play  at  cards,  nor  other  games  of  chance ;  they  are  a 
waste  of  time,  and  most  mischievous  and  dangerous  things,  and  of 
all  recreations  most  unsuitable  for  a  student — and,  that  you  do  not 
frequent  any  of  the  public-houses  or  places  of  refreshment.  *  * 
Above  all  things,  my  dear  son,  fear  God.  *  *  To  his  merciful 
care  I  commend  you,  and  earnestly  beseech  him  to  keep  you  from 
all  evil." 

TO    THE    SAME. 

Choice  of  a  Profession. — "I  have  never  expressed  any  direct  wish 
to  you  on  this  subject,  though  I  conceive  it  to  be  a  point  of  very 
great  moment,  and  one  which  requires  solemn  and  mature  reflec- 
tion. Your  present  and  eternal  state  may  be  very  closely  con- 
nected with  your  decision  of  it.  If  you  had  a  renovated  heart,  and 
knew  the  grace  of  God  in  truth,  nothing  on  earth  could  give  me 
so  much  pleasure  as  to  see  you  a  minister  of  Christ.  But  let  no 
man  intrude  himself  into  this  sacred  office  without  a  gracious  call. 

"  I  know  that  a  man  may  be  useful  to  the  cause  of  religion, 
while  pursuing  any  lawful  calling.  *  *  I  know,  too,  that  every 
profession  has  its  cares  and  temptations,  and  the  Gospel  ministry 
among  the  rest ;  but,  as  for  myself,  I  had  rather  be  a  minister  of 
the  Lord  Jesus,  than  to  hold  any  other  station  that  could  be  named. 
But  while  I  say  this,  I  know  that  every  man  has  his  predilections 
for  employment,  and  that  he  ought  to  consult  these  among  the 
various  things  which  are  concerned  in  making  up  his  mind." 

TO    A    GRANDSON. 

Dissatisfaction  with  College. — "  It  appears  to  me  that  you  must 
contemplate  things  through  a  false  and  deceptive  medium,  or  they 
could  never  strike  you  as  they  seem  to  do.  Undesirable  objects 
exist  everywhere,  and  things  of  unpleasant  occurrence.  This  is 
the  unavoidable  condition  of  our  fallen  world.  Go  where  you 
will,  and  you  will  meet  them ;  do  what  you  may,  and  they  will 
pursue  you,  and  nearly  with  equal  success  in  every  calling  and  in 
every  place.  What  if  the  classes  are  twice  as  large  in  one 

institution  as  they  are  in  another ;  or  the  students  make  a  hand- 
somer bow,  or  wear  a  finer  coat,  what  has  this  to  do  with  their  men- 
tal improvement'?  It  is  the  books  they  study,  and  the  thor- 
oughness with  which  they  study  them,  together  with  clear  and 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


75 


faithful  instruction  on  the  part  of  teachers,  that  does  the  business. 
All  the  rest  is  moonshine.  It  may  contribute  more  or  less  to  our 
pleasurable  feelings,  but  will  count  little  as  to  our  substantial  im- 
provement. *  *  Do  you  not  err  in  supposing  that  the  honor  of 
graduating  at  one  college,  will  differ  materially  from  that  of  grad- 
uating at  another  1  The  question  will  seldom  be  asked,  where  did 
you  graduate  7  But  what  are  you  ?  What  your  talents  and  at- 
tainments? What  your  dispositions  and  moral  habits'?  After 
these  your  cotemporaries  will  look  with  eagle  eye,  and  from  every 
side,  and,  without  your  leave,  will  graduate  you  over  again,  and 
according  to  a  scale  of  intellectual  and  moral  excellence  which 
they  have  formed  for  themselves." 

TO    ANOTHER   GRANDSON. 

The  loss  of  a  Father. — u  To  you,  it  appears  to  me,  this  bereave- 
ment holds  a  language  of  a  special  character.  While  it  calls  you, 
with  the  rest  of  the  children,  to  lift  up  your  eyes  to  your  Father  in 
heaven,  and  seek  an  interest  in  his  protection  and  friendship,  it 
admonishes  you  of  the  relation  you  sustain  as  the  elder  son  in  the 
family,  and  the  part  you  are  called  to  act  towards  your  widowed 
mother,  and  your  orphan  brothers  and  sisters.  It  is  a  comfort  to 
me  to  think  that  you  will  rightly  estimate  your  position.  *  * 
Love  your  mother — love  her  much  ;  she  deserves  your  love.  Re- 
lieve her  as  much  as  possible  from  the  burden  of  accumulating 
cares  ;  anticipate  her  every  want,  and  leave  nothing  undone  which 
may  tend  to  soften  the  pangs  of  a  bereaved  and  aching  heart.  *  * 
I  think,  my  dear  child,  I  may  trust  you  for  this  and  for  the  dis- 
charge of  those  duties  which  you  owe  to  your  afflicted  brothers 
and  sisters." 

TO    HIS   YOUNGEST    SON. 

Integrity  and  Honesty. — u  When  business  is  confided  to  you,  at- 
tend to  it  with  the  most  sacred  fidelity .  Let  there  be  no  shuffling, 
no  equivocation,  no  want  of  punctuality.  Especially  in  all  money 
matters,  be  exact  to  a  farthing.  One  deceitful  transaction  will  do 
the  business  for  you.  Whatever  may  be  the  temptation,  resolve 
never  to  depart  from  the  high  road  of  truth,  justice  and  honor." 

TO   THE    SAME. 

Keeping  out  of  Debt. — To  you  my  advice  is,  and  always  will  be, 
keep  out  of  debt  if  possible.  This  is  the  only  way  to  maintain 


75  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

one's  independence,  and  to  be  in  easy  circumstances.  The  bor- 
rower is  the  servant  of  ,,.,e  lender,  and  the  debtor  of  the  creditor, 
the  world  over. 

"No  man  can  breathe  fre3ly,  who  owes  more  than  he  can  pay 
when  it  is  justly  demanded.  I  have  enjoy  d  life  as  much  as  most 
men,  but  I  have  never  allowed  myself  to  get  into  debt  beyond  the 
f  ower  of  an  early  and  easy  liquidation.  I  am  aware  that  men  of 
business  cannot  always  act  upon  this  principle,  but  every  young 
man  should  make  it  a  point  to  keep  within  his  means,  and  thou- 
sands in  society  would  save  themselves  from  the  keenest  torture, 
not  to  say  reproach,  if  they  would  hearken  to  the  dictates  of  pru- 
dence on  this  subject." 

TO    HIS    SECOND    SON. 

Merchandizing. — "  Suppose  you  were  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  value  of  goods,  and  that  you  knew  what  was  best  adapted 
to  any  particular  market,  and  that  you  could  buy  and  sell  with  as 
much  skill  as  others  :  this  is  far  from  being  the  whole  matter.  There 
are  many  surprising  turns  and  changes  in  mercantile  affairs,  to  be 
looked  out  for  and  provided  against.  There  needs  to  be  a  watch- 
ful and  experienced  eye,  to  guard  against  losses  from  various  quar- 
ters, and  to  meet  the  pressure  of  engagements.  I  have  not  a 
particle  of  doubt,  as  to  what  is  the  wisest  course  for  you.  If  pos- 
sible, you  ought  to  obtain  a  clerkship  for  another  year.  *  *  *  You 
think  you  have  seen  many  things,  and  have  had  opportunity  to 
make  many  observations,  and  do  not  know  but  you  take  as  en- 
lightened a  view  of  the  transactions  of  business,  and  the  affairs  of 
life  generally,  as  you  will  do  some  five  or  ten  years  hence.  When 
your  friends  see  that  you  have  vim  to  take  care  of  yourself,  they 
will  help  you.  *  *  *  But  what  harm  in  making  the  trial  ?  Sure 
enough,  what  harm  in  throwing  away  fifteen  hundred  or  two  thou- 
sand dollars  of  other  people's  money,  and  becoming  a  bankrupt  in 
early  life  1  *  *  *  I  speak  freely  and  plainly,  but  with  a  father's 
heart.  You  cannot  know  the  deep  interest  I  take  in  your  welfare, 
both  temporal  and  eternal." 

TO    THE   SAME. 

Fidelity  and  regard  to  Providence  in  business. — "  I  rejoice  that 
there  is  a  prospect  of  your  succeeding  in  business.  But  recollect, 
my  son,  "  that  the  race  is  not  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the 
strong,  nor  yet  honor  to  men  of  skill."  There  is  a  Providence 


BIOGRAPHICAL     SKETCH.  7-7 

which  presides  over  the  affairs  of  men,  and  without  its  favorable 
concurrence,  all  their  efforts  will  be  in  vain.  Yet  God  overrules 
the  world  by  general  laws,  and  his  blessing  is  more  li  ely  to  fall 
upon  those  who  are  diligent  in  the  use  of  appropriate  means.  If 
we  squander  time,  if  we  are  extravagant  in  our  expenditures,  or 
careless  and  reckless  in  our  course,  we  diminish  the  chances  of  our 
success.  If,  from  a  haste  to  become  rich,  we  depart  from  the  path 
of  rectitude  and  honor,  or  do  more  business  than  we  can  do  safely, 
by  trusting  those  who  cannot  make  prompt  returns,  we  shall  not 
only  multiply  our  cares  and  anxieties,  but  greatly  increase  the 
probability  of  our  ultimate  failure.  I  am  desirous  that  you  should 
do  well,  and  as  one  means  of  this,  let  me  earnestly  recommend  it 
to  you  to  act  upon  the  nicest  principles  of  honor  and  justice." 

TO   THE    SAME. 

Course  to  be  pursued  in  days  of  pecuniary  embarrassment. — 
"  There  is  not  as  much  pressure  yet  in  the  country  as  in  the  city, 
though  I  think  it  begins  to  be  felt  here.  *  *  I  hope,  my  son,  that  you 
will  feel  the  importance  of  acting,  in  these  times,  correctly  and 
honorably,  whatever  events  may  befall.  Keep  in  view  your  ac- 
countability to  God,  and  never  lose  sight  of  the  maxim  established 
by  the  observation  of  ages,  that  "  honesty  is  the  best  policy."  If  a 
man  fails  honestly,  and  through  sheer  misfortune,  everybody  will 
sympathize  with  him.  His  creditors,  if  they  find  him  correct  and 
honorable,  will  treat  him  with  more  kindness,  and  be  ready  to  assist 
him  to  get  into  business  again.  But  if  they  find  him  not  trust- 
worthy, they  will  reproach  him,  and  abandon  him  to  his  fate." 

The  writer  may  be  allowed  to  remark,  that  he  has 
enjoyed  much  intercourse  with  the  son,  Mr.  Edward  C. 
Richards,  to  whom  the  foregoing  were  addressed,  and 
who  is  now  engaged  in  a  successful  mercantile  course  in 
the  city  of  New  York.  He  has,  at  several  distinct  times, 
intimated  to  me,  that  though  in  his  youth  he  could  not 
appreciate  the  counsels  of  his  father,  in  relation  to  busi- 
ness, yet  experience  had  taught  him  their  justice  and 
value,  and  that  his  own  success,  since  leaving  the  pater- 
nal roof,  had  depended  on  the  observance  of  principles 
which  his  father  had  suggested. 


7g  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

TO    THE    SAME. 

Tour  to  England. — "  We  cannot  but  regret  that  you  have  thought 
it  necessary,  in  the  prosecution  of  your  business,  to  go  to  England. 
Yet,  if  it  is  the  call  of  duty,  we  must  submit  to  it,  and  commend 
you  to  that  Providence  which  rules  on  the  mighty  ocean  no  less 
than  on  the  land.  *  *  *  I  think  of  the  dangers  of  the  sea  which 
you  are  about  to  encounter  ;  but  there  are  other  dangers  which 
will  attend  you  in  going  abroad  to  a  foreign  land — dangers  which 
arise  from  the  society  you  will  meet,  and  from  the  opinions  and 
practices  of  those  who  are  at  war  with  the  J;ruth,  and  enemies  to 
religion  and  virtue. 

"  Were  you  a  true  Christian,  and  safely  sheltered  in  the  ark 
which  the  Gospel  has  provided  for  a  lost  world,  I  could,  with  more 
composure,  see  you  take  your  leave  of  your  native  shores,  to  await 
the  events  which  may  befall.  As  it  is,  I  can  assure  you  of  a  father's 
and  a  mother's  love,  and  a  daily  remembrance  in  our  prayers." 

TO    THE    SAME. 

Reading. — Do  you  get  any  time  to  read  ?  I  do  not  ask  whether 
you  acquaint  yourself  with  the  news  of  the  day.  This,  almost  any 
young  man,  without  any  great  effort  at  husbanding  his  time,  will 
be  enabled  to  do.  But  do  you  find  leisure  for  more  solid  reading, 
and  for  that  permanent  improvement  which  you  ought  to  seek,  as 
an  intellectual  being,  and  a  member  of  an  enlightened  community  1 
Above  all,  do  you  read  your  Bible,  the  best  of  all  books.  *  * 
For  instructien  in  morals,  and  for  wisdom  to  direct  in  the  general 
conduct  of  life,  there  is  no  book  like  the  Bible." 

TO   THE    SAME. 

Reverencing  the  Sanctuary. — u  Have  you  made  your  church 
location  yet  ?  and  where  is  it  ?  I  want  to  see  you  settled  in  your 
habits  in  regard  to  this  point.  It  involves  perhaps  more  than  you 
are  aware  of,  both  as  to  this  life  and  that  which  is  to  come.  A 
man's  moral  estimate  in  society  is  affected  by  his  church-going 
habits,  and  no  less  certainly  his  views  and  impressions  of  the  doc- 
trines and  duties  of  religion.  I  am  710  bigot,  yet  I  should  be  grati- 
fied by  your  taking  a  seat  in  some  Presbyterian  church,  provided 
your  wife  should  be  willing  to  accompany  you.  Should  you  pre- 
fer the  Dutch  church  I  should  make  no  objections.  *  *  There 
are  other  evangelical  churches  where  the  truth  is  substantially 
preached.  Lose  no  time,  my  dear  son,  in  locating  yourself  some- 
where, and  when  located,  let  not  your  place  be  empty." 


BIOGRAPHICAL     SKETCH. 


79 


In  the  intercourse  which  Dr.  Richards  maintained  with 
his  children,  his  chief  anxieties  manifestly  related  to 
their  spiritual  and  eternal  interests.  His  correspond- 
ence, though  involving  wholesome  counsel  in  all  matters 
pertaining  to  this  world,  is  stamped  pre-eminently  with 
the  impress  of  religion.  Among  two  hundred  letters 
and  extracts  of  letters  submitted  to  the  compiler,  which 
were  written  to  his  children  previous  to  their  hopeful 
conversion,  rarely  is  one  to  be  found,  where  vital  piety, 
in  some  form,  is  not  distinctly  recognized  as  a  duty, 
while  in  most  instances  it  is  affectionately  and  solemnly 
urged  upon  their  immediate  attention. 

The  following  extracts  from  so  many  letters,  and  which 
we  give  in  the  form  of  paragraphs,  will  give  the  reader  a 
just  view  of  this  feature  in  his  correspondence  : 

"  What  will  you  do,  when  you  come  to  take  your  last  look  of 
the  world,  if  you  find  no  God  and  Saviour  near  1  Our  greatest 
wisdom  is  to  make  sure  of  an  interest  in  Christ,  and  put  ourselves 
over  entirely  into  his  hands.  My  prayer  is,  rny  dear  child,  that 
this  may  be  your  great  and  chief  concern." 

"  Not  a  day  passes  without  our  thinking  much  of  you,  nor  do 
we  meet  around  the  family  altar  without  bringing  your  case 
before  the  throne  of  eternal  mercy.  We  wish  you  every  comfort 
in  this  world,  and  above  all,  we  are  solicitous  that  you  should 
choose  that  good  part  which  shall  not  be  taken  from  you." 

u  I  long  to  see  you  safely  housed  in  the  ark,  before  the  gather- 
ing tempest  shall  arise  and  sweep  away  all  that  are  without." 

"  Beg  of  the  Lord  to  undertake  for  you,  and  work  in  you 
mightily,  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure." 

"  You  know  not  the  anxiety  I  have  on  the  subject  of  your  sal- 
vation." 

tc  Oh !  could  you  but  see  what  I  see,  and  realize  but  a  little 
what  is  so  apparent  and  whelming  to  my  own  mind,  you  would 
begin  in  earnest  to  sue  for  mercy,  and  never  rest  till  your  peace 
was  made  with  God." 


g0  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

a  Does  this  amazing  subject  take  hold  of  you?  Does  it  stir  the 
inner  man?  Does  it  induce  the  solemn  purpose  to  make  sure  of 
the  good  part,  the  one  thing  needful  ?" 

Similar  appeals  characterize  his  entire  correspondence, 
except  that  the  anxiety  of  the  father's  heart,  and  the 
importunity  of  his  pen,  seemed  to  augment  as  the  day 
of  probation  advanced. 

The  following  passages  and  extracts  contemplate  his 
children  in  different  positions. 

TO    HIS    ELDEST    SON. 

Under  Conviction. — "In  God  alone  your  help  is  found.  He  is 
under  no  obligation  to  show  you  mercy,  nor  can  you  bring  him 
under  any  by  all  your  heartless,  impenitent  and  unbelieving 
prayers ;  and  yet  if  you  were  to  say,  Then  I  will  restrain  prayer, 
and  leave  the  business  unsolicited  in  his  hand,  I  should  consider 
you  as  lost.  You  might  long  since  have  gone  down  to  death,  and 
made  your  bed  in  hell,  but  for  infinite,  unmerited  mercy.  Let 
that  mercy  melt  you.  *  *  *  Depend  upon  it,  the  Lord  is 
striving  with  you,  which  ought  to  be  a  matter  of  thankfulness  on 
the  one  hand,  and  of  fear  and  trembling  on  the  other.  *  *  * 
You  may  be  assured  of  a  constant  remembrance  in  my  prayers. 
But  do  not  trust  in  what  your  father  or  any  other  mortal  or  mortals 
can  do  for  you.  You  must  go  to  Christ,  and  submit  yourself  and 
your  cause  to  him." 

TO    THE    SAME. 

Hopeful  Conversion. — "  Had  God  conferred  on  you  the  wealth 
of  the  Indies,  it  had  been  nothing  compared  with  the  rich  display 
of  his  grace  in  calling  you  out  of  darkness  into  his  marvelous  light. 
How  shall  I  be  thankful  enough  for  this  amazing  instance  of 
Divine  mercy !  It  is  indeed  sovereign,  boundless  and  free,  and 
indicates  by  its  boundlessness  the  ocean  from  which  it  flows.  Let 
us  give  thanks  to  his  eternal  name,  and  let  our  lives,  distinguished 
by  such  mercy,  be  consecrated  entirely  and  forever  to  him.  *  * 

"  It  is  well  that  you  should  be  on  your  guard.  Deception  in 
such  a  case  would  be  awful  beyond  expression.  To  avoid  it,  we 
should  examine  after  the  grounds  of  our  hope,  and  examine  deep. 
We  should  look  to  the  secret  springs  of  action,  and  see  what  it  is 
which  moves  us.  Whether  love  to  God  on  account  of  his  holy 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


81 


nature,  as  well  as  for  his  kindness  to  us,  really  inspires  and  influ- 
ences our  hearts.  I  should  advise  you  to  read  Dr.  Witherspoon, 
<  On  the  Fruits  and  Effects  of  Regeneration,'  which  you  will  find 
in  the  first  volume  of  his  works.  If  you  can  obtain  the  volume, 
read  attentively  and  prayerfully,  willing  to  know  the  worst  as  well 
as  the  best  of  your  case.  How  I  long  to  see  you,  and  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  praying  and  blessing  God  together!75 

TO    HIS    SECOND    DAUGHTER. 

Undue  anxiety  in  adversity. — a  Great  as  your  calamities  are,  they 
might  be  still  greater.  You  might  see  yourself  and  your  dear 
family  devoted  to  immediate  destruction  in  a  burring  ship,  or 
buried  in  the  ruins  of  a  falling  house  smitten  by  a  tornado.  *  * 
Be  assured  God's  hand  is  in  these  events,  which  are  apparently  so 
disastrous  to  you.  They  make  a  part  of  that  wise  and  holy  plan, 
according  to  which  from  eternity  he  determined  to  govern  the 
world ;  and  besides,  you  have  the  promise  that  they  shall  issue  in 
your  good,  if  you  do  but  patiently  submit  to  them." 

TO    THE    SAME. 

u  You  speak  of  your  distress  at  the  prospect  of  being  in  a  state 
of  dependence.  I  fear  you  do  not  feel  quite  right  upon  this  sub- 
ject. We  ought  not  without  great  necessity  to  throw  ourselves 
upon  the  kindness  and  sympathies  of  others ;  but  when  we  can 
no  longer  help  ourselves,  it  is  a  favor  that  others  will  help  us,  and 
we  should  thank  the  Lord  that  he  provides  such  assistance,  though 
it  may  not  always  be  in  a  way  the  most  congenial  to  our  feelings. 
Elijah  was  fed  by  the  ravens  for  a  time,  but  how  clean  their  talons 
or  delicate  their  bills  I  know  not ;  and  when  he  was  sent  to  the 
house  of  a  widow  who  was  in  possession  of  a  barrel  of  meal  and  a 
cruse  of  oil,  we  are  not  informed  as  to  the  style  of  the  cookery,  or 
the  manner  in  which  his  daily  meals  were  served  up.  It  was  enough 
that  in  God's  way  his  wants  were  supplied." 

TO    THE    SAME. 

Nervous  Excitability — Beating  of  the  Heart.—"  I  am  strong- 
ly inclined  to  think  that  if  you  would  ride  out,  in  pleasant 
weather,  especially  when  the  wind  is  at  the  west,  and  also  take 
exercise  about  your  domestic  matters,  you  would  speedily  find 
amendment  in  the  tone  of  your  system.  *  *  You  have  great 
beating  of  the  heart,  I  am  told,  and  that  this  alarms  you.  So  have 


32  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

I  had  through  the  early  part  of  the  winter,  though  pretty  much 
gone  now;  and  the  more  I  attended  to  it,  the  more  it  beat  ;  but  by 
pursuing  the  course  1  recommend  to  you,  my  heart  now  carries  on 
its  functions  very  quietly.  Nor  do  I  very  often  inquire  how  fast  it 
goes  ;  but  when  I  do,  I  find  it  at  quite  a  moderate  pace,  not  more 
than  thirty  or  thirty  -five  strokes  in  a  minute  —  and  since  no  volition 
of  mine  can  alter  its  course,  I  let  it  alone,  being  thankful  that  it 
will  go  at  all." 

%  TO    HIS    YOUNGEST    SON. 

The  Work  of  the  Ministry.  —  "  My  prayers  have  been  answered, 
my  dear  son,  in  seeing  you  a  minister  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  re- 
gularly settled  in  a  pastoral  charge.  You  have  taken  what  seemed 
clearly  the  path  of  duty,  and  there  must  be  no  looking  back.  Go 
on,  my  dear  son,  in  the  great  work  to  which,  I  trust,  the  Lord  has 
called  you.  Be  a  man  of  study,  and  a  man  of  prayer,  and  you 
cannot  fail  to  be  useful. 

"  I  want  you  -  to  be  a  much  better  and  holier  man  than  I 
have  been,  and  to  accomplish  more  in  the  cause  of  the  Redeemer. 
Your  lot  is  cast  in  an  interesting  period  of  the  world,  when  much 
is  doing  for  the  honor  of  Christ,  and  the  good  of  men  ;  and  you 
live  in  a  part  of  the  world  where  an  opportunity  is  afforded  of  lay- 
ing out  yourself  to  promote  the  cause  of  truth  and  righteousness. 
*  *  Strive  to  live  near  to  God,  and  make  it  a  business  to  please 
and  honor  him.  It  is  the  spirit  of  the  ministry,  rather  than  its  ac- 
quisitions and  talents,  that  we  should  look  at.  Both  are  important  ; 
but  the  first  pre-eminently  so.  Here  lies  the  grand  failure  of  the 
ministry  of  the  present  day." 

TO    THE    SAME. 

Preparation  of  Sermons.  —  t(  Lose  no  time  in  your  preparations 
for  the  pulpit.  Take  some  digested  plan  for  a  sermon,  and  begin 
in  season,  and  go  ahead.  Labor  not  so  much  to  polish,  as  to  say 
the  right  things  in  the  right  place,  and  with  the  utmost  perspicuity 


TO    THE    SAME. 

Public  Religious  Exercises.  —  Let  me  repeat  my  injunction,  be 
short  in  your  public  exercises.  Do  not  pray  about  everything  at 
once.  When  you  make  long  prayers,  let  it  be  in  your  closet  j  but 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  g3 

at  all  times  remember  that  we  are  not  heard  for  our  much  speaking. 
In  preaching  long,  especially  as  you  write  the  most  of  your  ser- 
mons, too  much  time  and  strength  are  necessarily  expended  in  the 
preparation,  and  the  delivery  also  is  exhausting.  If  you  cannot 
express  yourself  in  short-metre,  make  long-metre  of  it,  and  cut  the 
sermon  in  two." 

TO    THE   SAME. 

Trials  of  the  Ministry. — a  Every  Christian  minister  must  have 
his  trials,  and  God  knows  best  what  form  they  shall  assume.  Be 
on  your  guard  lest  your  feelings  should  become  chafed,  and  Satan 
get  an  advantage  against  you.  Anything  which  should  alienate  your 
heart  from  the  people  of  your  charge,  would  endanger  both  your  com- 
fort and  your  usefulness.  If  they  were  as  liberal  and  as  good  as  they 
ought  to  be,  they  would  have  less  need  of  your  services.  Manage 

the  matter  about with  kindness  and  prudence,  and  it  will  turn 

out  well,  I  have  no  doubt.  What  is  most  important  to  you,  and 
almost  the  only  thing  which  is  important,  is  to  give  yourself  to  your 
work.  *  *  Look  to  God  alone  for  all  needed  grace,  to  make 
you  faithful,  and  to  crown  your  labors  with  success." 

But  there  may  be  those  with  whom  what  has  been 
said  of  the  social  excellences  of  Dr.  Richards  will  all  go 
for  nought.  They  have  seen,  or  suppose  they  have 
seen,  a  blot  upon  his  social  character,  which  is  more  than 
an  offset  to  all  his  virtues.  It  is  reported  that  he  was 
a  slaveholder.  Not  a  little  has  been  said  in  relation  to 
this  matter,  and  much  sensation  has  been  produced  in 
private  circles,  and  also  in  places  of  public  concourse. 
Of  this  matter  we  have  Dr.  Richard's  own  explanation^ 
and,  though  dead,  he  may  speak  for  himself.  In  a  letter 
to  Rev.  Charles  Merwin,  an  alumnus  of  Auburn  Theo- 
logical Seminary,  under  date  of  Feb.  6,  1841,  he  says : 

"  There  is  a  colored  woman,  in  Newark,  N.  J.,  who,  according 
to  the  laws  of  that  State,  stands  in  the  relation  of  a  slave  to  me, 
but  who,  in  fact,  has  been  asfree,  for  nearly  twenty  years,  as  she 
desired  to  be,  or  as  I  could  make  her.  When  I  removed  into  this 
State,  I  gave  her  her  choice,  to  accompany  me  to  Auburn,  or  to 
stay  among  her  friends,  without  any  master  or  superior,  to  work 


§4  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

when  she  pleased,  and  play  when  she  pleased,  without  any  will 
but  her  own  to  control  her.  She  preferred  the  latter,  though  she 
has  since  expressed  her  regret  that  she  did  not  remain  in  my  family. 
She  was  too  old  to  be  manumitted  according  to  law,  without  bonds 
being  given  that  she  should  not  become  a  town  charge;  and  when  the 
subject  of  manumission  was  proposed  to  her,  she  utterly  declined  it, 
saying  that  she  knew  her  interest  too  well  to  be  made  legally  free  at 
her  time  of  life.  Doubtles  s!  e  judged  wisely;  for  while  she  was 
able  to  work  and  support  herself,  she  was  perfectly  at  her  own  dis- 
posal, and  had  the  benefit  of  her  labor ;  and  when  she  became  too 
infirm  to  do  this,  she  had  a  resort  to  her  master's  funds,  which  she 
has  found  adequate  to  all  her  necessities.  She  lives  among  her 
relations,  wrho  provide  every  comfort  for  her,  at  my  order,  and  at 
my  expense. 

"  As  a  friend  of  the  colored  race,  what  could  I  do  more  ?  If  I 
had  manumitted  her,  with  or  against  her  will,  she  must  have  gone 
to  the  poor-house  in  her  old  age,  instead  of  living  among  her 
friends,  in  the  most  absolute  ease  and  independence,  with  every 
want  cheerfully  met  and  supplied. 

"  But  how  came  this  woman  into  my  possession,  and  to  stand 
in  the  relation  of  a  servant  to  me?  It  took  place  in  conse- 
quence of  her  earnest  request,  and  to  promote  what  I  then  believed 
was  her  interest  and  my  own.  She  was  then  too  old  to  be  manu- 
mitted— a  thing  she  did  not  desire — but  wished  to  change  masters 
for  many  reasons,  and  among  others  to  be  nearer  to  her  husband  and 
children.  Such  a  change  would  not  increase  the  number  of  slaves, 
while  it  would  obviously  ameliorate  their  condition ;  nor  could  it, 
as  I  supposed,  have  any  influence  in  perpetuating  a  state  of  bond- 
age. A  gradual  emancipation  had  already  been  determined  on, 
and  provision  made  by  the  laws  of  the  State  for  the  freedom  of 
every  person  to  whom  freedom  would  be  a  privilege.  The  object 
then  sought  has  since  been  very  nearly  consummated.  The  colored 
people  of  that  State,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  aged  persons,  are 
now  all  free,  and  their  freedom  has  been  accomplished  with  less 
suffering  to  themselves,  and  with  more  positive  benefit,  than  if  it 
had  been  effected  in  a  single  day." 

In  speaking  of  the  mind  of  Dr.  Richards,  the  first  thing 
to  be  noticed  is  its  energy.  From  his  childhood  he  was 
manifestly  the  subject  of  high  purpose,  or  determination 
to  make  something  of  himself.  His  manly  bearing  in 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


85 


early  youth,  his  early  and  successful  efforts  in  teaching 
others,  his  youthful  address  to  his  parents — "  it  is  time 
for  me  to  turn  my  attention  to  some  calling  for  life" — 
all  indicate  energy  of  character.  And  when  he  had 
entered  upon  a  course  of  study  with  a  view  to  the  Gospel 
ministry,  though  often  hindered,  yet  he  never  faltered  in 
his  purpose.  Like  the  majestic  river,  which  either  re- 
moves obstacles  or  rises  above  them,  or  provides  for 
itself  new  channels,  he  fixed  his  eye  upon  the  goal,  and 
pursued  his  cherished  aim.  When  disappointed,  yet  not 
discouraged — when  blind,  availing  himself  of  the  aid 
of  a  sister — when  his  wants  could  not  be  consistently 
supplied  by  his  friends,  resorting  to  teaching  to  aid  him- 
self— when  interrupted  in  his  course  of  study  at  college, 
returning  to  avail  himself  of  private  instructions — when 
visited  with  long,  wasting  sickness,  yet  devoting  his 
restored  health  to  study — often  "faint,  yet  pursu  g," 
until  the  desired  object  is  reached.  To  this  energy  of 
mind,  this  fixedness  of  purpose,  this  indomitable  zeal  in 
carrying  an  object,  or,  in  other  wrords,  to  this  determina- 
tion to  be  something,  more  than  to  any  other  one  cause, 
we  ascribe,  under  God,  the  eminence  which  he  reached. 
He  stands  forth  before  the  world  a  self-educated  man — 
as  one  of  the  few  who  have  attained  not  only  professional 
excellence,  but  high  attainment  in  general  knowledge, 
in  spite  of  the  most  serious  interruptions  and  embarass- 
ments  connected  with  an  early  course  of  study. 

In  the  mind  of  Dr.  Richards  the  reasoning  faculty  was 
also  well  developed.  He  had  imagination,  and  might  have 
soared  and  dwelt  among  the  "  heights,"  but  his  taste  did 
not  lead  him  to  try  his  pinions.  Besides,  his  duties,  espe- 
cially for  the  last  part  of  his  life,  were  more  concerned 
with  the  "  depths."  His  intellectual  pursuits  looked  to 
the  development  and  elucidation  of  substantial  truth,  and 
few  uninspired  men  have  been  more  successful  in  finding 
this  pearl  of  great  price.  "A  wise  man,"  says  Solomon, 


gg  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

"will  hear  and  will  increase  learning,  and  a  man  of  un- 
derstanding shall  attain  unto  wise  counsels."    The  mind 
that  seeks  truth  supremely,  which  pursues  it  deliberately 
and  patiently,  which  comprehends  its  relations  and  de- 
pendences, and  which  weighs  objections  against  it  in 
"  even   balances,"  gives  the  fairest  promise  of  success 
in  its  pursuit.     Such,  we  think,  was  the  mind  of  Dr. 
Richards.     Its  entire  construction  was  such  as  to  render 
him  a  close  and  successful  reasoner.     The   candor,  pa- 
tience, deliberation  and  common  sense  which  came  in  to 
aid  the  perceptive  and    reasoning  faculties,  secured  to 
them  a  clearness  of  comprehension,  and  a  strength  and 
majesty  of  movement,  and  a  correctness  of  conclusion 
which  will  place  his  name  among  the  greatest  lights  of 
his  age.     Even  those  who  may  call  in  question  his  phi- 
losophical principles  and  deductions,  or  his  expositions 
of  the  Scriptures,  will  not  withhold  the  acknowledgment 
that  his  defence  of  his  own  positions  is  the  defence  of 
masterly  power.     It  may  also  be  noticed  that  while  Dr. 
Richards  was  no  inventor  of  new  and  fanciful  theories, 
and  while  he  took  no  pleasure  in  differing  with  good 
men  in  opinion,  yet  his  mind  pursued  its  investigations 
with  remarkable  independence.     He  received  nothing  on 
the  simple  assertion  of  any  man.     He  examined  every- 
thing for  himself.     He  often  inclined  to  a  system  as  a 
whole,  without  endorsing  every  thing  which  might  be  re- 
garded as  belonging  to  it,  thus  receiving  what,  to  his 
mind,  seemed  according  to  truth,  and  rejecting  the  rest, 
whoever  might  be  the  author.     Thus  he  was  a  Calvinist 
of  the  Edwardean  School.     He  was  accustomed  to  say 
that  "  he  did  not  like  to  differ  from  Edwards."     Yet  he 
was  no  slave  to  the  opinions  of  Edwards,  and  endorsed 
not  a  sentiment  of  that  great  man,  unless,  upon  exami- 
nation, he  was  led  to  regard  it  as  in  accordance  with 
eteraal  truth.     So  he  was,  on  the  whole,  a  New  School 
man,  but  he  was  far  from  defending  everything  which 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


87 


might  go  under  the  New  School  name.  It  will  be  found 
that  his  views  on  several  important  topics  differ  from  the 
extremes  of  the  Old  School  and  New. 

But  the  mind  of  Dr.  Richards  was  distinguished  for 
nothing  more  than  for  its  strong  common  sense.  To  appre- 
ciate this,  you  are  to  look  at  the  age  in  which  he  lived. 
He  was  young  when  the  Church  began  to  awake  to  the 
wants  of  a  dying  world ;  and  his  early  ministry  was 
connected  with  the  birth  of  many  of  the  philanthropic 
and  benevolent  institutions  of  the  land.  His  life  as  a 
professor,  too  ,was  passed  in  the  midst  of  much  agitation 
and  excitement.  At  such  times,  men  are  apt  to  betake 
themselves  to  extremes.  They  are  Old  School  or  New 
School,  without  reserve.  They  either  go  with  the  cur- 
rent, or  stand  still  and  hold  back.  They  either  make 
doctrine  everything,  or  practice  everything.  They  make 
the  missionary  cause  a  hobby;  or  temperance,  or  the 
cause  of  the  slave,  and  regard  with  comparative  indiffer- 
ence, other  forms  of  benevolence  and  philanthropy. 
Now,  what  is  wanting,  is,  that  good  men,  and  especially 
leaders  in  the  "  sacramental  host/'  should  keep  their 
balance ;  that  they  shall  go  neither  too  fast  nor  too  slow ; 
that  they  shall  give  everything  not  only  a  place,  but  its 
proper  place.  In  a  word,  that  they  shall  be  "  ready  for 
every  good  word  and  work."  Such  a  "  balance  of  mind  " 
is  not  only  the  "  better  part  of  valor/'  but  in  the  Chris- 
tian pastor,  or  theological  professor,  a  requisite,  second 
only  to  humble  piety.  Of  a  mind  thus  balanced,  it  is 
believed,  that  the  last  half  or  three-fourths  of  a  century 
has  not  presented  a  happier  example  than  was  found  in 
Dr.  Richards.  He  discovered  the  relations  of  things 
almost  by  intuition,  and  predicted  tendencies  and  results 
with  the  accuracy  of  a  prophet.  When  he  sought  an 
end,  he  selected  means  which  would  secure  it,  without 
"  subjecting  his  good  to  be  evil  spoken  of."  When 
conducting  Zion  through  the  interesting  scenes  of  a  re- 


gg 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


vival,  no  drawbacks  upon  the  good  accomplished  resulted 
from  a  "  zeal  not  according  to  knowledge." 

This  feature  in  his  intellectual  character,  contributed 
to  the  wisdom  and  weight  of  his  counsels,  in  the  different 
relations  and  emergencies  of  life.  As  a  father,  as  a 
pastor,  and  as  a  guide  and  teacher  of  youth,  he  rarely 
gave  a  word  of  advice,  which  did  not,  sooner  or  later, 
prove  itself  "  a  word  fitly  spoken."  In  the  highest  judi- 
catories  of  the  church,  when  matters  of  great  interest 
were  involved  in  perplexity,  and  when  "  much  speak- 
ing "  seemed  to  "  darken  counsel,"  or  furnish  no  light,  a 
few~  words  from  the  modest  lips  of  Dr.  Richards,  have 
proved  like  the  breaking  forth  of  the  setting  sun-beams, 
after  a  day  of  clouds  and  storms. 

This  feature  of  his  mind  also  proved  an  effectual  pre- 
ventive of  imposition  and  circumvention.  He  read  the 
intentions  of  men  from  their  conduct,  with  great  accu- 
racy. Though  he  was  unsuspicious,  yet  no  man  within 
the  range  of  his  observation  could  pursue  a  zig-zag 
course,  and  escape  the  notice  of  his  eye.  And  the  man 
who  undertook  by  stratagem,  to  circumvent  him,  or 
injure  his  reputation  and  influence,  either  abandoned  the 
enterprise  in  discouragement,  or  closed  it  in  disgraceful 
defeat.  Efforts  of  this  kind  were  made  at  different  peri- 
ods of  his  public  life,  and  in  some  instances,  enlisting 
much  talent  and  influence  ;  and,  were  it  wise  to  expose 
the  snares  which  were  laid  for  his  feet,  and  the  manner 
in  which  they  were  escaped,  elucidation  would  be  fur- 
nished of  a  sagacity  with  which  it  is  not  safe  to  contend. 
"To  steady  opposition,"  says  his  colleague  Dr.  Mills, 
"  he  was  the  most  impracticable  man  I  ever  knew.  At 
the  outset,  his  opponents  might  honestly  think  themselves 
right,  but  they  soon  would  find  themselves  in  the  wrong 
by  the  estimation  of  others,  and  what  is  apt  to  be  more  pro- 
voking, by  their  own.  They  might  please  themselves  with 
calling  him  the  "  old  fox  ;"  but  they  never  caught  him. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  gg 

As  a  Christian,  Dr.  Richards  was  humble,  prayerful, 
and  full  of  sympathy  with  the  cause  of  Christ.  Like 
Brainerd  and  Edwards,  he  cherished  the  most  abasing 
views  of  his  own  moral  character.  He  was  once  asked, 
"Do  you  suppose  that  you  have  ever,  for  a  moment, 
loved  God  as  much  as  you  ought  ?"  and  his  immediate 
answer  was,  "  No,  NOT  A  THOUSANDTH  PART  :"  and  burst 
into  tears.  In  his  religious  character,  which,  on  the 
whole,  was  one  of  great  symmetry,  there  was,  perhaps, 
more  of  the  anxious  than  the  hopeful  and  joyous.  Says 
Dr.  Cox,  one  of  his  colleagues  in  Auburn  : 

"  He  sometimes  evinced  anxiety  of  a  peculiar  kind.  It  was  not 
that  his  hope  was  shaken  or  gloomed  either  objectively  or  subject- 
ively ;  but  it  arose  from  a  tender  apprehension  of  the  great  crisis 
of  the  dying  hour,  of  the  importance  of  glorifying  Christ  in  his  exit 
from  the  world,  the  desirableness  of  recommending  his  religion  to 
survivors,  his  conscious  need  of  special  grace  in  that  great  solemnity 
of  untried  being!  He  would  say  to  me,  Oh  !  that  I  may  have  the 
full  and  copious  help  of  the  Holy  Ghost  when  I  come  to  die — a 
supply  of  the  spirit  of  Christ !" 

Dr.  Richards  loved  and  cherished  the  spirit  of  prayer. 
He  regarded  it  as  the  "Christian's  vital  breath."  His 
attitude  in  his  private  devotions,  especially  during  the 
latter  part  of  his  life,  was  standing ;  and  often,  with  his 
hands  placed  upon  the  mantle-piece  of  his  study,  he  was 
found  wrestling  with  the  angel  of  the  covenant.  An  in- 
mate of  his  family  relates  an  instance  in  which  his 
countenance  so  indicated  an  abstraction  of  mind  from 
earth  and  his  sweet  communion  with  God,  as  to  remind 
her  of  Moses  on  the  holy  mount  "  in  audience  with  the 
Deity." 

He  laid  great  stress  upon  prayer  as  giving  life  and 
efficacy  to  all  other  means  of  grace.  In  times  of  trial 
and  darkness  in  the  Church  he  went  often  to  his  closet, 
and  recommended  to  others  earnest  and  importunate 
appeal  to  the  mercy-seat,  as  furnishing  the  richest  pro- 
6 


90 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


mise  of  needed  relief.  Says  one,  "Division  and  strife  in 
the  Church  were  to  him  as  'a  thorn  in  the  flesh;'  and 
while  others  litigated  and  thundered  anathemas,  this 
man  of  God  was  on  his  knees,  weeping  over  the  afflic- 
tions of  Joseph,  and  praying  for  the  peace  of  Zion." 

The  depth  and  power  of  his  pious  sympathies,  were 
peculiarly  developed  in  connection  with  revivals  of  re- 
ligion and  the  benevolent  movements  of  the  age. 

"  My  acquaintance  with  him,"  says  the  Rev.  G.  N.  Judd,  "  com- 
menced in  the  winter  of  1817.  It  was  a  time  of  general  religious 
interest  in  the  town  of  Newark,  especially  among  the  people  of  his 
pastoral  charge.  I  shall  never  forget  the  intense  interest  and  hea- 
venly unction  which  characterized  his  conversation,  his  preaching 
and  his  prayers.  *  * 

"  It  was  evident  that  he  felt  a  deep  interest  in  the  salvation  of 
men  everywhere.  No  one  could  doubt  this  who  enjoyed  the  privi- 
lege of  listening  to  his  prayers.  They  were  characterized  by  a 
tenderness  of  spirit,  a  depth  of  feeling,  a  divine  emotion,  and  a 
power  of  entreaty,  decidedly  evidential  of  intense  desire  and  strong 
faith  in  God,  as  the  hearer  of  prayer." 

The  writer  of  the  above  refers  to  a  meeting  of  Presby- 
tery in  Morristown,  at  the  time  of  a  powerful  revival  of 
religion,  and  speaks  of  Dr.  Richards,  who  was  present, 
as  follows : 

"  The  deep  fountains  of  feeling  in  his  bosom  were  evidently 
moved.  He  offered  the  prayer  which  preceded  the  delivery 
of  the  Presbyterial  sermon,  and  made  an  address  at  a  meet- 
ing in  the  evening  which  was  appropriated  to  exhortation  and 
prayer.  Both  of  these  performances  were  characterized  by  a  sense 
of  the  presence,  majesty,  and  holiness  of  God,  and  the  worth  of 
the  soul,  such  as  I  have  seldom,  if  ever,  witnessed." 

A  co-presbyter  of  the  writer,  Rev.  C.  Merwin,  says : 

"  Soon  after  leaving  the  Seminary,  I  went  to  him  for  advice, 
during  an  awakening  among  the  people  of  my  charge.  I  told  him 
of  the  solemn  interest  which  pervaded  my  congregation,  and  of  the 
tokens  of  God's  presence.  THE  TEARS  STOLE  RAPIDLY  DOWN  HIS 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


91 


FURROWED    CHEEKS,  AS   HIS   SOUL    SEEMED    TO    EXULT    IN  THE  PROS- 
PERITY OF  GOD'S  CAUSE." 

It  may  be  added  that  Dr.  Richards  "  devised  liberal 
things"  for  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  His  agency  was 
concerned  not  only  in  the  origin  of  many  of  the  benevo- 
lent institutions  of  the  age,  but  in  sustaining  them  to  the 
last,  by  his  charities,  and  prayers,  and  labors.  Nothing 
more  gladdened  his  heart  as  a  pastor,  than  the  increase 
of  that  spirit  among  his  people  which  looks  to  the  con- 
version of  the  world  ;  and  as  a  Professor,  nothing  is  noted 
in  his  correspondence  with  the  friends  of  the  Seminary 
with  greater  joy  than  the  spirit  evinced  among  his  pupils 
to  go  to  "  the  waste  places  "  of  our  American  Zion,  or 
carry  the  Gospel  upon  their  lips  to  "  the  isles  of  the  sea," 
and  to  preach  "  Christ  where  he  had  not  been  named." 

As  a  theologian  Dr.  Richards  held  a  high  place  in  the 
estimation  of  the  Christian  public.  His  profession  not 
only,  but  taste  and  habits  of  instructing  young  men  in 
their  course  preparatory  to  the  ministry,  led  his  mind 
much  in  the  direction  of  theological  study.  The  general 
character  of  his  religious  opinions  is  well  intimated  in 
the  language  of  Dr.  Woods,  of  Andover :  "  He  thought, 
and  felt,  and  preached,  as  the  ministers  of  Connecticut 
did  40  years  ago,  and  as  the  ministers  of  New«England 
generally  do  now.  His  religious  experience  substan- 
tially agreed  with  the  experience  of  such  men  as  Ed- 
wards, Brainerd  and  Bellamy ;  and  his  theological  belief 
corresponded  with  his  experience.  And  when  I  say  this, 
I  mean  to  say  that  his  belief  and  his  religious  experience 
were  conformed  to  the  Word  of  God."  His  views  were 
clear  and  comprehensive.  He  saw  the  relations  and 
mutual  dependences  of  the  Gospel  system ;  and  with 
much  care  and  skill  assigned  to  each  particular  truth  its 
own  proper  place.  Primary  truths  were  well  distin- 
guished, both  in  relation  to  each  other,  and  in  relation 
to  those  which  are  only  secondary;  and  his  body  of 


92 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


divinity,  like  the  natural  body,  was  "  fitly  joined  toge- 
ther and  compacted  by  that  which  every  joint  sup- 
plieth." 

As  a  polemic,  Dr.  Richards  was  skillful,  and  no  less 
candid  than  skillful.  He  read  or  heard  opposing  views 
patiently,  stated  them  fairly,  and  then  discussed  them  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  secure  the  respect  of  his  opponent, 
if  not  to  convince  him  of  error.  "  It  was  remarkable," 
says  one,  "  that  his  opposition  to  error  and  disorder  was 
made  with  a  spirit  so  respectful,  and  kind  and  gentle, 
that  he  did  not  lose  the  esteem  and  friendship  of  those 
from  whom  he  differed." 

There  are  some  things  which  have  a  degree  of  import- 
ance in  the  preacher,  in  which  the  subject  of  this  sketch 
was  excelled.  He  never  prepared  his  sermons  with  any 
reference  to  the  "  enticing  words  of  man's  wisdom." 
For  polishing,  he  found  neither  time  nor  disposition. 
Nor  was  he  equal  to  some  of  his  brethren  in  gracefulness 
of  manner.  It  was  evident  that  in  relation  to  these 
matters,  either  he  had  never  made  himself  familiar  with 
highly-finished  models,  or  if  so,  that  he  was  not  particu- 
larly careful  to  copy  them.  But  in  strong  thought  clothed 
with  appropriate  diction,  in  giving  to  the  trumpet  a  cer- 
tain sound,  in  bringing  from  the  Gospel  treasure  things 
both  new  and  old,  in  presenting  truth  with  perspicuity, 
in  giving  to  each  hearer  his  own  portion  in  due  season, 
and  in  applying  truth  pungently  and  faithfully,  Dr.  Rich- 
ards had  few  equals  in  the  American  Church.  He  select- 
ed his  themes,  arranged  his  plans,  chose  his  forms  ol 
expression,  and  delivered  his  message  with  the  obvious 
aim  to  make  his  hearers  understand,  and  induce  them  to 
receive  and  obey  the  truth.  Hence  there  was  no  mere 
show  of  learning  in  the  pulpit,  but  everything  was  suited 
as  well  to  instruct  the  unlettered,  as  to  interest  and  edify 
the  most  highly-furnished  minds.  He  never  discussed  a 
doctrine  dryly;  but  after  a  fair  statement,  and  clear 
elucidation,  brought  it  to  bear  upon  the  hearer,  as  a 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


93 


matter  of  deep  practical  interest,  and  as  furnishing  the 
highest  motives  for  holy  confidence  and  obedience.  His 
presentation  of  the  preceptive  and  experimental  parts  of 
the  Gospel,  constituted  a  bright  and  faithful  mirror,  in 
which  his  hearers  could  learn  what  was  their  own  spirit- 
ual character.  There  was  also  much  less  inequality  in 
his  ordinary  exhibitions  of  truth,  than  often  obtains  among 
those  who  are  regarded  as  eminent  preachers.  There 
are  those  in  the  Christian  ministry  who  are  capable  of 
great  efforts,  who,  nevertheless,  sometimes  feed  their 
flocks  writh  mere  declamation,  or  at  best,  with  tame  and 
moderate  sermons.  Dr.  Richards  was  more  equal  in  the 
distribution  of  his  power;  or,  at  least,  he  avoided  the 
sinking  extreme,  which  certainly  is  the  least  desirable. 
"  As  a  preacher/'  says  the  Hon.  T.  Frelinghuysen,  "  he 
was  sound,  practical,  instructive,  always  interesting,  and 
often  eloquent.  The  great  themes  which  he  discussed, 
and  the  deep  concern  he  felt  for  the  salvation  of  his 
hearers,  were  so  earnestly  and  solemnly  urged,  that  no 
one  could  mistake  his  convictions  or  his  purpose." 

As  a  Professor  of  Theology,  Dr.  Richards  was  well 
furnished,  apt  to  teach,  punctual  and  patient.  His 
studies,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  were  mainly 
subordinate  to  the  range  of  instruction  which  he  was 
called  to  impart.  This  principle  was  closely  adhered  to 
until  the  close  of  his  life.  any  of  his  lectures  were 
frequently  re- written.  Every  sentiment  was  carefully 
and  frequently  examined,  and  the  phraseology  and  form 
in  which  that  sentiment  was  conveyed,  was  studied  with 
a  view  to  its  conveying  precisely  the  author's  sentiments 
to  the  minds  of  his  pupils.  About  two  years  before  his 
death,  in  a  letter  to  his  daughter  he  says : 

"  Could  I  favor  myself  as  much  as  I  really  ought  at  my  time  of 
life,  I  think  I  should  enjoy  comfortable  health.  But  it  is  difficult 
to  do  this.  If  I  have  classes  I  must  hear  them  ;  if  I  hear  them  / 
must  be  prepared." 

"  As  an  instructor  he  was  remarkably  punctual.    Hours 


94  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

devoted  to  recitation  he  regarded  as  sacredly  due  to 
his  pupils,  and  he  never  withheld  or  curtailed  them  for 
trifling  reasons.  The  following  incident  illustrates  his 
fidelity  at  this  point.  He  was  in  his  study,  in  the  midst 
of  a  lively  conversation  with  a  brother  in  the  ministry, 
when  the  Seminary  bell  rang  for  recitation.  His  friend 
expressed  his  regret  at  the  interruption,  and  seemed  in- 
clined to  protract  the  interview  with  the  Professor.  But 
it  was  a  question  to  be  "taken  without  debate."  He 
immediately  rose  from  his  seat,  excused  himself,  took 
his  hat  and  papers,  and  retired. 

His  manner  of  demolishing  the  false  positions  and  rea- 
sonings of  his  pupils,  was  marked  by  great  gentleness 
and  kindness.  He  never  aimed  to  "break  down"  a 
student,  however  tenacious  in  sustaining  a  wrong  posi- 
tion, but  to  undermine  him  and  let  him  fall  of  himself; 
and,  for  the  most  part,  the  fall  was  so  gentle  that  the 
shame  of  being  vanquished  on  the  part  of  the  pupil 
was  lost  in  his  admiration  of  the  skill  of  his  teacher. 
Rev.  N.  W.  Fisher,  a  classmate  of  the  writer,  says  : 

a  I  never  shall  forget  a  circumstance  that  occurred  soon  after  I 
joined  our  class.  The  question  to  be  answered  was,  Whether  con- 
science always  dictated  right?  I  took  the  position  that  it  did,  and 
maintained  it  with  a  force  of  argument  probably  unusual  for  a  tyro. 
This  brought  me  in  collision  with  the  Doctor,  who  took  opposite 
ground.  For  want  of  time  the  debate  ended  before  it  was  finished. 
About  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  following  a  rap  was  heard  at  my 
door,  when  who  should  appear  but  the  Doctor.  Not  satisfied  with 
the  manner  in  which  the  debate  had  ended  in  the  recitation-room, 
he  sought  this  opportunity  to  resume  the  subject.  The  discussion 
continued  till  near  midnight.  I  listened  with  profound  admiration 
to  his  arguments,  and  was  pleased  with  the  evidence  he  gave  of  his 
anxiety,  not  so  much  to  triumph,  as  to  arrive  at  the  truth  and  con- 
vince me  of  my  error.  He  foresaw,  probably,  that  it  would  influ- 
ence other  points  in  theology,  and  he  seemed  intensely  anxious  that 
I  should  be  set  right.  I  must  confess  that  my  position  had  to  give 
way,  and  my  views  have  been  different  ever  since." 

With  the  substantial  qualities  of  a  teacher  he  also 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH.  95 

commanded,  at  will,  those  which  are  sprightly  and  hu- 
morous. Few  men  could  invent  a  pithy  form  of  thought, 
or  draw  a  happy  comparison,  or  recall  an  apposite  anec- 
dote with  greater  facility.  In  the  use  of  such  illus- 
trations he  judged  well  as  to  time  and  place.  If  he 
seemed  to  descend,  it  was  not  at  the  expense  of  his  own 
dignity  or  the  respect  of  his  pupils.  If  the  garb  in  which 
a  point  wras  dressed  was  homely,  and  perhaps  too  homely 
for  the  popular  ear,  yet  amid  the  familiarities  of  the  reci- 
tation-room it  was  not  only  lawful,  but  highly  agreeable 
and  instructive.  What  son  of  Auburn  Seminary  has 
forgotten  the  ability  of  Dr.  Richards  to  relieve  the  tedium 
of  a  long  recitation,  or  dry  discussion.  Some  of  us, 
after  the  lapse  of  nearly  twenty  years,  can  well  remem- 
ber the  very  grateful  convulsions  which  were  created  by 
the  corruscations  of  his  mighty  intellect.  Under  the 
sallies  of  his  sprightliness  and  strong  common  sense,  we 
forgot  our  dyspepsy,  and  even  the  evil  genius  of  the 
hypochondriac  was  sometimes  dislodged  and  compelled 
to  take  his  departure  for  a  season. 

It  is  worthy  also  to  be  noticed,  that  his  instructions, 
especially  in  the  experimental  parts  of  theology,  were 
often  characterized  by  an  unction  and  warmth  of  feeling, 
by  which  he  carried  the  sympathies  of  his  class,  and 
secured  to  his  pupils  a  deeper  and  livelier  impression  of 
truth  than  they  had  ever  before  felt.  An  instance  of 
this  kind  occurred  a  short  time  before  his  death,  while 
illustrating  the  nature  of  that  act  of  the  mind  and  heart 
by  which  a  sinner  first  embraces  Christ  as  his  Saviour. 
In  illustrating  this  point  he  referred  the  class  to  his  own 
experience  in  conversation,  and  the  manner  in  which, 
from  step  to  step,  his  mind  was  led. 

"  As  the  venerable  Professor  proceeded  in  the  narrative,"  says 
a  member  of  the  class,  "his  heart  warmed  in  the  remembrance  of 
the  circumstances  and  feelings  connected  with  his  conversion.  He 
leaned  forward,  then  rose  from  his  seat,  and  with  extended  arms 
and  flowing  tears,  ascribed  his  change  to  sovereign  grace,  and  de- 
clared that  his  first  act  of  faith  was  submission  to  the  throne. 


96  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 

Would  that  I  could  recall  all  his  language.  The  power  of  this 
living  testimony  carried  conviction  to  our  hearts,  and  we  received 
impressions  which  will  help  us  to  understand  and  preach  the  truth, 
and  which  we  shall  carry  with  us  to  our  graves." 

In  the  foregoing  sketch  of  the  life  of  Dr.  Richards, 
we  believe  that  no  feature  has  been  overdrawn;  yet 
we  do  not  claim  that  he  had  attained  perfection.  He 
ever  cherished  a  deep  sense  of  his  deficiency  in  all 
things,  especially  in  the  Christian  virtues.  Though  he 
had  no  sympathy  with  the  doctrine  that  sinless  perfec- 
tion is  attained  in  this  life,  yet  he  believed  that  others 
came  nearer  to  '-the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high 
calling  of  God  "  than  himself.  It  may  be  said,  however, 
that  in  his  private,  social  and  professional  character,  he 
was  a  man  of  uncommon  excellence,  and  a  distinguished 
light  in  the  Church  of  God.  We  heartily  endorse  the 
following  tribute  to  his  memory,  by  his  colleague,  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Mills,  as  given  in  his  funeral  discourse  :  "  But 
had  he  then  no  faults  ?  it  may  be  asked.  And  if  by  the 
questi  n  be  meant  whether  he  had  not  some  unhappy 
obliquity  of  temper,  some  habitual  frailty,  such  as  too 
often,  even  in  men  of  general  excellence,  must  be  re- 
membered with  regret  by  surviving  friends,  and  which 
they  would  gladly  forget  and  hide  from  view — if  this  be 
meant,  we  answer,  we  know  of  no  such  faults  in  him 
whose  loss  we  mourn.  A  character  whose  whole  exhib- 
ited such  symmetry,  such  consistency,  it  is  seldom  our 
privilege  to  meet." 

But  no  degree  of  intellectual  or  moral  worth  is  secu- 
rity against  the  power  of  death.  But  "  he  that  believ- 
eth,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live."  We 
cherish  this  precious  hope  with  regard  to  our  lamented 
and  honored  father.  He  has  died  but  to  live.  A  star 
of  the  first  magnitude  has  disappeared,  only  to  shine 
on  a  wider  and  higher  orbit.  What  a  constellation  of  such 
stars  is  gathering  in  heaven  !  How  bright  their  glories ! 


LECTURES 


ON 


MENTAL  PHILOSOPHY  AND  THEOLOGY. 


LECTTJEE    I. 


ON    THE   WILL. 


THERE  are  few  subjects  either  more  important  or  more 
difficult  than  those  which  pertain  to  the  Will.  From 
time  immemorial  they  have  furnished  themes  of  the  most 
ardent  controversy,  on  which  men  of  the  profoundest 
learning  and  talent  have  exhausted  their  powers.  It 
would  require  a  volume  only  to  name  the  points  in  de- 
bate, without  touching  upon  the  arguments  alleged  for 
and  against  the  opinions  advanced. 

Among  the  leading  questions  which  have  been  disputed 
are,  What  is  the  will,  considered  as  a  faculty  or  principle 
of  the  mind  ?  What  are  its  phenomena  ?  and  in  what  order 
developed  ?  Is  it  free  ?  and  what  does  its  freedom  involve  ? 
What  determines  the  will  ?  Is  it  determined  by  its  own  effi- 
ciency ?  or  ~by  something  external  to  it  ?  or  both  ?  How  far 
do  virtue  and  vice  depend  on  the  will  ?  And  is  moral  char- 
acter  predicable  of  all  its  acts,  or  of  some  only  ? 

Our  object  is  not  to  take  up  these  inquiries  in  their 
order,  nor  exactly  to  confine  our  remarks  to  what  belongs 
to  them ;  but  to  give  our  views  on  the  more  essential 
points  in  this  controversy,  and  to  show  occasionally  what 
Edwards  has  taught  in  relation  to  these  topics.  We  shall 
advert  frequently  to  him,  not  because  we  pin  our  faith 
upon  his  sleeve,  great  and  good  as  he  was,  nor  because 
7 


98  ON    THE    WILL. 

we  wish  others  to  do  it,  but  for  the  purpose  of  awakening 
a  desire  carefully  to  investigate  his  principles,  believing  he 
has  done  more  than  any  other  man  in  exploring  the  basis 
of  human  obligation,  and  in  reconciling  the  responsibility 
of  man  with  the  predeterminate  counsel  of  God.  At  all 
events,  we  consider  him  both  scriptural  and  safe.  Be- 
sides, his  argument  on  the  freedom  of  the  will  is  unri- 
valed for  its  depth,  its  ingenuity  and  power,  his  opponents 
themselves  being  judges ;  and  it  can  scarcely  fail  to  be 
a  useful  discipline  to  our  minds,  thoroughly  to  study  this 
development  of  his. 

WHAT  IS  THE  WILL"? 

According  to  this  writer,  "It  is  that  by  which  the 
mind  chooses  anything.  And  the  faculty  of  the  will  is 
that  faculty,  power  or  principle  of  the  mind,  by  which  it 
is  capable  of  choosing.  An  act  of  the  will  is  an  act  of 
choice." 

Some  have  thought  it  a  better  definition  to  say,  "  That 
the  will  is  that  by  which  the  soul  chooses  or  refuses" 
But  Edwards  contents  himself  with  saying,  it  is  that  by 
which  the  soul  chooses,  because  in  every  act  of  the  will 
he  supposes  the  mind  chooses  one  thing  rather  than 
another— something,  rather  than  the  want  of  it — its  exist- 
ence, rather  than  its  non-existence.  So  in  refusing,  the 
mind  chooses  the  absence  of  the  thing  refused.  With  the 
positive  and  negative  set  before  it,  it  chooses  the  negative. 
Call  the  act  of  the  will,  therefore,  by  what  name  you 
please — choosing,  refusing,  approving,  disapproving,  liking, 
disliking,  embracing,  rejecting,  determining,  directing,  com- 
manding, forbidding,  inclining  or  being  averse  to,  being 
pleased  or  displeased  with — all  may  be  reduced  to  that  of 
choosing.  Hence,  for  the  soul  to  act  voluntarily,  is  always 
to  act  electively. 

Some  have  made  a  distinction  between  willing  and 
preferring.  Mr.  Locke  says,  "  A  man  may  prefer  flying 


ON    THE    WILL.  99 

to  walking ;  yet  he  never  wills  it,  because  he  knows  it 
to  be  impossible."  The  will,  he  thinks,  is  never  called 
into  exercise  but  in  relation  to  our  operative  powers,  and 
when  something  is  to  be  done,  or  not  done ;  of  course, 
that  the  will  always  terminates  on  some  act  of  our  own, 
either  bodily  or  mental,  and  some  act  which  we  take  to 
be  in  our  power.  Reid,  Stewart  and  Chalmers  coin- 
cide with  him  in  this  opinion.  Preferring,  according  to 
these  philosophers,  sometimes  expresses  an  act  of  the 
will,  yet  not  always,  and  only  when  it  relates  to  some 
action  of  our  own  which  we  regard  as  practicable.  Ed- 
wards takes  a  different  view  of  this  subject.  He  sup- 
poses willing  and  preferring  are  the  same  thing,  being 
always  acts  of  the  same  faculty — in  other  words,  that 
every  preference  is  a  choice,  and  every  choice  an  act 
of  the  will.  As  to  flying,  he  holds  that  a  man  may  be 
said  indirectly  and  remotely  to  choose  it,  though  he  never 
chooses  to  put  forth  any  bodily  exertion  in  order  to  fly. 
With  respect  to  walking,  it  is  different.  Here  the  next 
and  immediate  object  of  choice  is  the  alteration  of  the 
bodily  organs,  with  the  view  to  an  end,  and  with  the 
expectation  of  accomplishing  that  end.  If  the  man  be 
at  rest,  and  prefers  walking,  he  determines  to  make  an 
immediate  use  of  his  bodily  organs  for  that  purpose. 
If  already  in  the  act  of  walking,  he  wills  to  continue  or  to 
suspend  the  action  of  these  organs,  as  is  most  agreeable 
to  him.  But  his  will,  in  this  case,  is  neither  more  nor 
less  than  his  choice,  though  the  choice  immediately  ter- 
minates on  an  object  different  from  that  in  the  case  of 
flying.  He  who  prefers  flying  to  walking,  chooses  between 
two  modes  of  conveyance,  considered  simply  in  them- 
selves, and  without  taking  into  view  the  question  whether 
they  are  alike  in  his  power ;  but  he  makes  no  effort  to 
fly,  and  he  chooses  none,  and  inclines  to  none,  because 
he  knows  it  would  be  unavailing.  Of  course,  his  choice 
in  this  case  is  not  immediate  and  direct,  but  remote  and 


ON    THE    WILL. 

indirect :  still  he  chooses,  and  this  choice  is  an  act  of  the 
will,  though  not  such  an  act,  attended  by  such  circum- 
stances, as  when  he  chooses  to  walk. 

The  doctrine  of  Edwards  is,  that  preferring  to  fly  and 
willing  to  walk  are  both  acts  of  choice,  both  exercises  of 
one  and  the  same  faculty,  the  faculty  of  the  will ;  and 
that  the  only  difference  between  them  lies  in  the  differ- 
ent objects  on  which  the  choice  terminates,  and  the 
circumstances  attending  it. 

Still,  we  hold  it  right  to  admit  that  the  customary  use 
of  language,  which  determines  its  propriety,  will  not  allow 
us  to  use  the  terms  willing  and  preferring  as  if  they  were 
precisely  synonymous.  To  will  is  a  stronger  term  than  to 
choose  or  to  prefer,  and  is  more  commonly  applied  to  those 
acts  of  choice  which  immediately  respect  our  own  actions. 
I  cannot  correctly  say,  /  will  meat,  I  will  drink,  or  I  will 
veal  instead  of  mutton ;  but  I  may  say,  I  prefer  the  one  to 
the  other.  It  would  be  bad  English  for  a  man  to  say, 
I  will  to  be  as  fleet  as  the  roe,  or  as  strong  as  the  lion; 
but  he  might  correctly  say,  I  should  like  to  be,  or  should 
prefer  to  be.  Things  which  are  not  at  my  option  are  not 
properly  in  my  power;  and  though  I  may  indirectly 
choose  or  prefer  them,  I  cannot  according  to  correct 
usage  say,  I  will  or  purpose  them.  These  terms  more 
appropriately  relate  to  some  action  of  mine,  and  some 
action  for  some  end.  But  if  either  the  action  or  the  end 
be  deemed  impossible,  it  would  be  contrary  to  the  law 
of  my  rational  nature  to  will  or  purpose  in  the  case.  So 
far,  then,  as  the  mere  use  of  terms  is  concerned,  it  would 
seem  that  we  always  prefer  what  we  will,  but  do  not 
always  will  what  we  prefer — custom  having  limited  the 
terms  willing  and  volition  to  that  class  of  our  feelings  or 
desires  which  terminate  immediately  on  some  action  of 
our  own. 

The  examples  given  by  President  Edwards  do  not 
militate  against  this.  He  asks,  indeed,  "  If  a  man's 


ON    THE    WILL 


101 


choosing,  liking  best,  or  being  pleased  with  a  thing,  are 
not  the  same  as  willing  that  thing,  according  to  these 
general  and  natural  notions  which  men  have  upon  this 
subject  ?  Thus  an  act  of  the  will  is  commonly  expressed 
by  its  pleasing  a  man  to  do  thus  or  thus ;  and  a  man's 
doing  as  he  will,  or  doing  as  he  pleases,  are  the  same 
thing  in  common  speech."  But  who  does  not  see  that 
in  these  examples  some  act  of  our  own  is  concerned,  as 
that  on  which  the  will  terminates  ?  Here  is  a  man  doing 
as  he  wills,  and  doing  as  he  pleases — and  its  pleasing 
him  to  do  thus  or  thus.  Something  then,  it  seems,  in  all 
these  cases,  is  to  be  done.  Some  action,  bodily  or  mental, 
is  contemplated  as  that  on  which  the  will  terminates. 

Such  forms  of  speech,  though  they  settle  nothing  ulti- 
mately, yet  as  far  as  they  go,  seem  to  limit  the  act  of 
willing  to  something  to  be  done  or  not  done ;  to  some- 
thing as  the  fruit  or  effect  of  willing;  or  rather  they 
show  that  the  phrase  to  will  is  not  so  wide  a  term  as  to 
prefer,  the  former  being  limited  by  custom  to  our  own 
personal  acts.  President  Edwards,  in  his  Treatise  on  the 
Affections,  admits  this,  though  he  contends,  and  may 
contend  justly,  that  all  our  desires,  choices,  preferences  and 
affections,  are  exercises  of  one  and  the  same  faculty — the 
faculty  of  will. 

Locke  makes  a  distinction,  also,  between  will  and  desire, 
maintaining  that  they  are  different  states  of  mind,  and 
may  often  run  counter  to  each  other.  To  prove  this,  he 
gives  the  following  example :  "  A  man,  I  cannot  deny, 
may  oblige  me  to  use  persuasions  with  another,  which, 
at  the  time  I  am  speaking,  I  may  wish  may  not  prevail  upon 
him."  In  this  case,  he  thinks  it  plain  that  will  and  desire 
run  counter.  "I  will  the  action  that  tends  one  way, 
whilst  my  desire  tends  another,  and  that  the  direct  con- 
trary way.35  Such  instances,  Edwards  remarks,  do  not 
prove  the  will  to  be  different  from  desire,  or  that  one  can. 
be  opposed  to  the  other.  Will,  he  admits  to  be  a  term 


102  ON    THE    WILL. 

of  larger  signification  than  desire;  but  denies  that  a  man's 
will  and  desire  can  ever  oppose  each  other,  where  the 
objects  on  which  they  terminate  are  precisely  the  same. 
If  the  objects  are  different,  then  will  may  be  opposed  to 
will,  and  desire  to  desire.  In  this  we  think  him  right — 
right  as  to  the  facts  in  the  case,  and  right  in  saying  that 
such  examples  as  given  by  Mr.  Locke  do  not  prove  a 
diversity  between  will  and  desire.  But  we  might  ask,  do 
they  prove  the  contrary  ?  The  question  is  still  open  to 
debate,  and  cannot  be  settled,  we  imagine,  by  an  appeal 
to  the  ordinary  use  of  terms.  I  may  admit  that,  accord- 
ing to  the  usus  loquendi,  a  certain  class  of  our  feelings,  or 
states  of  mind,  may  more  appropriately  be  called  volitions, 
or  acts  of  will,  than  a  certain  other  class,  which,  never- 
theless, I  hold  to  be  exercises  of  the  will,  and  therefore 
volitions,  though  not  usually  so  denominated.  I  may 
contend  that  all  our  desires  are  but  so  many  develop- 
ments of  the  will,  showing  its  inclination  or  disinclination 
to  the  objects  in  view,  and  still  allow  that  many  of  them 
are  not  commonly  called  volitions,  though  truly  and  pro- 
perly acts  of  will. 

The  point  at  issue  between  Locke  and  Edwards  was 
simply  this :  whether  all  our  desires,  of  whatever  form 
or  character,  are  exercises  of  will,  or  that  class  of  desires 
only,  which  immediately  relate  to  our  actions,  bodily  or 
mental.  Mr.  Locke  maintained  that  the  will  is  conver- 
sant only  with  our  operative  powers,  and  therefore,  call 
its  exercise  desire  or  choice,  or  what  you  will,  it  never 
acts  but  in  the  direction  of  our  operative  faculties.  Con- 
sequently he  allows  nothing  to  be  a  volition  or  act  of  will, 
but  some  desire  or  choice  of  the  mind,  which  terminates 
on  some  action  of  our  own.  While,  in  opposition  to  him, 
President  Edwards  contends  that  the  will  is  immediately 
concerned  in  all  our  desires,  choices,  preferences,  likes  and 
dislikes,  let  them  be  directed  to  what  object  they  may; 
though  he  admits  they  do  not  so  commonly  take  the  name 


ON    THE    WILL. 

of  volitions,  except  where  they  relate  to  some  action  for 
some  end.  He  was  well  aware  of  the  customary  use  of 
language,  but  he  did  not  suppose  that  this  use  could  settle 
the  deep  and  recondite  principles  of  philosophy,  whether 
physical  or  moral.  It  might  determine  what  are  the  com- 
monly-received opinions  of  men,  but  could  do  little  in 
deciding  whether  those  opinions  were  well  or  ill  founded. 
He  chose,  therefore,  to  examine  for  himself,  and  to  judge 
of  the  powers  of  the  mind  by  the  states  of  the  mind ;  and 
of  these  states,  as  they  appeared  to  his  own  consciousness. 
Whether  he  formed  a  correct  judgment,  it  is  the  privilege 
of  every  one  to  inquire.  Dr.  Brown,  Mr.  Payne,  and  a 
multitude  of  others,  coincide  with  him.  Reid,  Stewart, 
Chalmers,  and  the  Scotch  Metaphysicians  generally,  agree 
with  Mr.  Locke.  They  consider  our  desires  and  affections 
only  as  incentives  to  volition,  not  as  volitions  themselves. 
Yet  we  might  ask,  what  is  a  volition  but  a  desire  ?  a 
desire  of  one  thing  rather  than  another  with  which  it  is 
compared  ?  and  what  is  such  a  desire  but  a  choice  ? 
which  surely  must  be  an  act  of  the  will,  or  of  the 
elective  faculty.  When  I  raise  my  hand  to  my  head,  by 
a  simple  act  of  volition,  what  more  am  I  conscious  of,  so 
far  as  the  mental  process  is  concerned,  than  that  I  desire 
it,  rather  than  the  contrary  ?  Do  you  say  that  I  desire 
it  for  some  end,  and  that  I  believe  it  practicable  ?  We 
grant  that  these  are  circumstances  connected  with  the 
desire,  and  may  be  necessary  to  call  it  into  being.  But 
the  desire  itself,  apart  from  these  circumstances,  appears 
no  otherwise  to  my  consciousness  than  any  other  desire ; 
or  if  there  be  a  difference,  it  is  no  other  than  what  is 
occasioned  by  the  object  on  which  it  terminates.  The 
desire  of  wealth  and  the  desire  of  fame  both  flow  from  the 
same  power  or  susceptibility  of  mind ;  yet,  to  our  con- 
sciousness, they  seem  somewhat  different,  as  the  objects 
are  different  which  excite  them ;  and  this,  perhaps,  is 
true  of  that  entire  class  of  feelings  which  we  denominate 


104  ON    THE    WILL. 

affections;  though  springing  from  the  same  general  power 
and  susceptibility  of  mind,  they  assume  to  us  different 
aspects,  chiefly  from  the  fact  that  they  are  awakened 
by  different  objects. 

Allow  me  here  to  remark,  that  while  President  Ed- 
wards takes  the  terms  witting  and  choosing  in  so  compre- 
hensive a  sense  as  to  include  all  the  desires  and  incli- 
nations of  the  mind,  he  makes  no  attempt  to  show  the 
correctness  of  this  doctrine,  except  what  appears  in  his 
brief  answer  to  Mr.  Locke.  Perhaps  he  thought  it 
enough  to  rest  in  the  popular  and  long-received  opinion 
on  the  subject,  until  some  one  was  able  to  set  it  aside, 
or  at  least  should  make  a  more  promising  effort  for  this 
purpose  than  Mr.  Locke  had  apparently  done.  It  has 
also  been  noticed  as  rather  a  singular  fact,  that  while 
Edwards  takes  this  broad  ground  with  respect  to  the 
nature  and  operation  of  the  will,  he  seldom  alludes  to  it 
in  the  first  three  parts  of  his  great  work  on  the  subject 
of  the  will.  His  illustrations  are  almost  uniformly  taken 
from  what  are,  by  way  of  distinction,  called  deliberate 
acts  of  the  will,  that  is  to  say,  those  acts  which  contem- 
plate something  to  be  done  or  not  done.  This  might  be 
the  best  ground  on  which  to  meet  his  opponents,  and 
perhaps,  from  the  tenor  of  their  sentiments  and  the  na- 
ture of  their  warfare,  it  was  absolutely  necessary  that 
this  course  should  be  taken.  Yet  one  can  hardly  help 
wishing  that  he  had  paid  more  attention  to  those  primary 
states  of  mind,  from  which  the  deliberate  and  imperate 
acts  of  the  will  proceed  ;  enough,  at  least,  to  inform  us 
how  far  he  supposed  his  doctrine  concerning  one  class 
of  volitions  would  hold  true  with  respect  to  the  other. 

There  is  no  room  to  doubt,  however,  that  he  consid- 
ered willing  and  desiring  the  same  thing,  and  not  different 
things — the  mere  development  of  the  same  faculty.  Of 
course,  that  no  man  wills  what  he  does  not  desire,  nor 
desires  what  he  does  not  will,  when  the  same  and  not 


ON    THE    WILL. 


105 


different  objects  are  regarded.  Hence,  all  our  inclina- 
tions and  affections  are  considered  by  him  as  exercises 
of  the  will.  This  appears  from  many  parts  of  the  work 
to  which  we  have  already  alluded,  but  is  distinctly  dis- 
cussed in  his  Treatise  on  the  Affections.  Thus  on  page 
124 :  "  The  affections/'  he  says,  "  are  no  other  than  the 
more  vigorous  and  sensible  exercises  of  the  will :  that 
God  has  endowed  the  soul  with  two  faculties — one,  that 
by  which  it  is  capable  of  perception  or  speculation  •  or 
by  which  it  discerns,  views  and  judges  of  things :  this  is 
called  the  understanding.  The  other  is  that  by  which 
the  soul  does  not  merely  perceive  and  view  things,  but 
is  in  some  way  inclined,  with  respect  to  the  things  it 
views  and  considers ;  either  is  inclined  to  them,  or  is 
disinclined,  or  averse  from  them :  or  it  is  the  faculty  by 
which  the  soul  does  not  behold  things  as  an  indifferent 
and  unaffected  spectator ;  but  either  as  liking  or  disliking, 
pleased  or  displeased,  approving  or  rejecting."  "  This  fac- 
ulty," he  adds,  "  is  called  by  various  names.  It  is  some- 
times called  the  inclination,  and  as  it  has  respect  to  the 
actions  which  are  governed  by  it,  it  is  called  the  will; 
and  the  mind,  with  regard  to  the  exercise  of  this  faculty, 
is  called  the  heart.  The  will  and  the  affections  of  the 
soul  are  not  two  faculties ;  the  affections  are  not  essen- 
tially distinct  from  the  will,  nor  do  they  differ  from  the 
mere  actings  of  the  will  and  inclination  of  the  soul,  but 
only  in  the  liveliness  and  sensibleness  of  the  exercise." 
He  confesses  "that  language  on  this  subject  is  somewhat 
imperfect,  and  the  meaning  of  words,  in  a  considerable 
measure,  loose  and  unfixed,  and  not  precisely  limited  by 
custom,  which  governs  the  use  of  language.  In  some 
sense  the  affection  of  the  soul  differs  nothing  at  all  from 
the  will  and  inclination ;  for  the  will  is  never,  in  any 
exercise,  any  farther  than  it  is  affected.*  It  is  not  moved 

*  Nor  the  understanding  either. 


106  ON    THE    WILL. 

out  of  a  state  of  perfect  indifference  any  otherwise  than 
as  it  is  affected  one  way  or  other,  and  acts  nothing  any 
farther.  But  yet,  there  are  many  actings  of  the  will  and 
inclination  that  are  not  so  commonly  called  affections. 
In  everything  we  do,  wherein  we  act  voluntarily,  there 
is  an  exercise  of  the  will  and  inclination  that  governs 
us  in  our  actions;*  but  all  the  actings  of  the  inclination 
and  will,  all  our  common  actions  in  life,  are  not  ordina- 
rily called  affections.  Yet  what  are  called  affections  are 
not  essentially  different  from  them,  but  only  in  the  de- 
gree and  manner  of  exercise.  In  every  act  of  the  will 
whatsoever,  the  soul  either  likes  or  dislikes,  is  either  in- 
clined or  disinclined  to  what  is  in  view ;  and  these  are  not 
essentially  different  from  the  affections  of  love  and  hatred. 
That  liking  or  inclination  of  the  soul  to  a  thing,  if  it  be 
in  a  high  degree,  or  vigorous,  is  the  same  thing  as  the 
affection  of  love  ;  and  that  disliking  or  disinclining,  if 
(it  be)  in  a  great  degree,  is  the  same  with  hatred." 

All  this  is  exceedingly  explicit,  so  far  as  the  opinions 
of  this  great  man  are  concerned.  He  undoubtedly  be- 
lieved that  all  the  inclinations  and  desires  of  the  soul, 
towards  the  various  objects  in  view,  are  properly  acts  or 
exercises  of  the  will — though  not  all  denominated  volitions 
in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  word.  "  There  are 
many  actings  of  the  will,  which  are  not  commonly  called 
affections."  What  actings  are  these  ?  and  what  are  they 
usually  called  ?  They  are  such  actings  as  are  concerned 
in  the  common  actions  of  life — actions  brought  about  by 
a  direct  act  of  the  will,  or  purpose ;  and  these  actings, 
every  one  knows,  are  usually  called  volitions.  Yet  such 
volitions  are  not  ordinarily  called  affections;  nor  are  the 
affections  ordinarily  called  volitions — but  in  Edwards' 
view,  they  are  all  alike  acts  or  exercises  of  will.  He 
could  see  no  difference  in  that  power  or  principle  of  the 

*  Mr.  Locke  would  say  that  the  will  is  exercised  in  nothing  else. 


ON    THE    WILL. 

mind,  which  directs  and  governs  our  mental  and  bodily 
actions,  and  that  power  or  principle  which  is  pleased  or 
displeased,  with  any  object  presented  to  the  mind's  view. 
In  the  one  case  the  soul  is  pleased  or  displeased  with  a 
proposed  action,  as  the  next  and  immediate  object  of 
choice  :  in  the  other,  with  an  object  which  is  not  an  ac- 
tion— at  least  not  an  action  of  our  own,  proposed  to  be 
done  or  forborne.  In  both  cases  there  is  liking  or  dislik- 
ing, embracing  or  rejecting,  choosing  or  refusing,  and  to 
what  power  or  principle  of  the  mind,  he  would  ask,  can 
any  of  these  things  be  referred,  but  to  the  will  ?  The 
objects  which  occasion  them  may  be  different,  and  the 
circumstances  and  results  different ;  but  in  themselves 
what  are  they  ?  but  the  various  developments  of  one 
and  the  same  faculty,  the  will  ? 

At  the  same  time  it  has  been  common,  and  we  intend 
to  show  that  it  is  important,  to  distinguish  one  class  of 
volitions  from  another.  Those  which  terminate  on  some 
action  of  our  own,  have  been  called  deliberate  acts — and 
imperate  acts  of  the  will,  and  not  unfrequently  determi- 
nate acts — because  they  are  more  the  result  of  delibera- 
tion, and  determine  and  govern  the  action  on  which  they 
fix ;  while  those  which  contemplate  no  action  as  their 
immediate  result,  are  called  immanent  acts  of  the  will. 
They  remain  in  the  mind,  and  do  not  flow  out  into  ac- 
tion. 

It  is  of  little  importance  by  what  names  these  two 
classes  of  volitions  are  distinguished,  provided  the  terms 
agreed  on  be  well  understood  and  carefully  remembered; 
but  in  our  apprehension  it  is  immensely  important  to  the 
cause  of  truth,  that  the  volitions  themselves  be  distinguished. 
Though  admitted  to  be  exercises  of  the  same  faculty,  and 
to  be  phenomena  of  the  same  generic  character,  yet  they 
are  clothed  with  very  different  circumstances ;  and  we 
shall  find,  upon  examination,  that  what  is  true  of  the  one 


108  ON    THE    WILL. 

is  not  always  true  of  the  other,  and  that  in  several  im- 
portant particulars. 

First.  As  we  have  seen  already,  it  is  true  of  the 
deliberate  or  imperate  acts  of  the  will,  that  they  always 
stand  connected  with  our  operative  faculties,  and  termi- 
nate on  some  action  of  our  own  which  we  take  to  be  in 
our  power ;  whereas,  immanent  acts  of  the  will  never 
thus  terminate.  They  never  fix  on  something  to  be  done, 
or  not  done,  and  consequently  never  flow  out  in  action  of 
any  kind — except  so  far  as  they  may  become  incentives 
to  action,  and  thus  influence  the  will  in  its  deliberative 
and  determinate  acts. 

Second.  Virtue  and  vice  are  primarily  and  properly 
predicable  only  of  immanent  volitions,  or  acts  of  will. 
They  are  the  seat  of  all  culpability  and  praiseworthi- 
ness;  while  the  deliberate  acts  of  the  will  do  not  consti- 
tute, but  merely  indicate,  the  moral  character  of  the  agent. 

We  take  it,  there  is  no  one  common  sense  notion  bet- 
ter established  than  this.  If  the  moral  affections  are 
right,  the  actions  will  be  right,  and  the  deliberate  acts  of 
the  will,  from  which  these  actions  immediately  proceed. 
If  the  moral  affections  be  wrong,  they  will  give  birth  to 
purposes  and  acts  which  are  wrong.  This  is  so  obvious 
as  a  general  statement,  that  there  seems  no  room  for 
doubt  or  disputation.  For  it  is  neither  more  nor  less  than 
saying  that  when  the  heart  is  right  all  will  be  right,  and 
vice  versa.  Yet,  when  we  come  to  inquire  into  the  mat- 
ter, we  find  no  person  attributing  moral  qualities  to  the 
external  action,  disconnected  with  the  volition  which 
produced  it,  nor  to  the  volition,  apart  from  the  motive  or 
feeling  which  excited  it.  We  ask,  indeed,  if  the  action 
was  voluntary  ?  because,  if  it  were  merely  accidental,  or  not 
intended,  it  could  not  indicate  a  state  of  moral  feeling  of 
any  kind,  nor  be  the  legitimate  expression  of  any.  But 
when  we  have  ascertained  that  the  action  was  voluntary ', 


ON    THE    WILL. 


109 


we  are  not  prepared  to  pronounce  on  the  character  of  the 
agent,  until  we  know  the  motive  by  which  his  voli- 
tion in  the  case  was  dictated.  If  this  was  virtuous, 
we  pronounce  the  agent  virtuous;  if  this  was  sin- 
ful, we  pronounce  him  to  be  sinful.  Thus  we  always 
judge  of  character  by  the  state  of  the  moral  affections,  or 
the  disposition  of  the  agent ;  and  could  we  know  these, 
previous  to  the  deliberate  acts  of  the  will,  and  to  the 
actions  which  that  will  occasions,  we  should  form  'pre- 
cisely the  same  judgment  of  men's  character,  before  they 
have  willed  or  acted,  as  afterwards.  By  the  very  constitu- 
tion of  our  minds,  wTe  are  led  to  refer  the  merit  and 
demerit  of  every  action  to  the  state  of  the  heart  whence 
it  originated.  On  this  ground  it  is,  that  the  Scriptures 
declare,  "  That  he  that  hateth  his  brother  is  a  murderer ; 
and  he  that  looketh  on  a  woman,  to  lust  after  her,  hath 
committed  adultery  with  her  already  in  his  heart."  The 
language  of  God's  law  is,  "  Thou  shalt  not  covet,"  and 
the  sacred  precept  is  broken  whenever  the  covetous  feel- 
ing arises,  though  the  purpose  to  gratify  it  should  never 
be  formed.  To  form  such  a  purpose  would  indicate  the 
reality,  and  perhaps  the  strength  and  permanency  of  the 
feeling ;  yet  the  moral  obliquity  lies  not  in  the  purpose, 
any  more  than  in  the  hand  which  executes  the  purpose. 
This  must  be  traced  up  to  the  heart,  or  to  the  corrupt 
feelings  which  gave  birth  to  the  purpose,  and  which  the 
purpose  presupposes  and  indicates.  Again : 

Third.  When  it  is  said,  "  a  man  can  if  he  will,  or  he  could 
if  he  would,  or  he  may  if  he  pleases,"  we  must  understand 
in  all  such  cases,  that  a  deliberate  act  of  the  will  is  spoken 
of;  for  such  phrases  can  have  no  application  to  an  im- 
manent act.  An  immanent  act  of  the  will  contemplates 
no  action  as  its  fruit  and  consequent,  and  is  followed  by 
none  ;  consequently,  no  action,  or  power  of  action,  is  sus- 
pended upon  it.  This  is  true  only  of  deliberative  and 
determinate  acts  of  the  will.  And  yet  how  often  will  you 


ON    THE    WILL. 


hear  from  the  pulpit  and  elsewhere,  such  forms  of  ex- 
pression as  these  :  "  You  can  love  God,  if  you  will  —  and 
hate  sin,  if  you  will  —  and  repent,  if  you  will!"  —  a  lan- 
guage improper,  on  several  accounts.  First,  it  supposes, 
contrary  to  feet,  that  love  to  God,  and  hatred  to  sin,  and 
sorrow  for  it,  arise  in  the  mind  in  consequence  of  some 
antecedent  act,  immediately  willing,  and  purposing  these 
affections  ;  whereas,  among  philosophers  and  metaphysi- 
cians it  is  a  conceded  point,  that  they  never  arise  in  this 
manner,  but  are  always  spontaneous  —  rising  up  in  view 
of  the  objects  on  which  they  terminate,  and  which  are 
their  true  causes  or  antecedents.  This  language  is  im- 
proper, in  the  second  place,  because  it  makes  a  voluntary 
state  of  mind,  or  volition  itself,  the  thing  immediately 
willed—  and  which  involves  the  absurdity  of  willing  to 
will  —  an  occurrence  which  nobody  supposes  to  be  prac- 
ticable. But,  thirdly,  were  it  practicable  to  will  an  affec- 
tion, or  voluntary  state  of  mind,  into  being,  it  must  be 
willed  for  some  end,  which  is  agreeable  or  pleasing  to 
the  agent.  What  shall  that  end  be  ?  Say  I  will  to  love 
God  :  Is  it  because  the  love  of  God  is  an  affection  in 
itself  agreeable  to  me  ?  then  I  possess  it  already,  and  do 
not  will  it  into  being,  since  it  had  gained  existence  ante- 
rior to  my  willing.  Or  do  I  will  to  love  God  for  some 
selfish  end,  believing  that  it  might  contribute  to  my  future 
welfare  ?  Can  any  man  suppose  that  such  a  selfish  act 
would  beget  true  love  to  God  ?  or  make  the  least  approx- 
imation towards  it  ?  No  stream  can  flow  higher  than  its 
fountain.  What  begins  in  selfishness  must  end  in  selfish- 
ness ;  as  all  experience  shows,  and  all  analogy  demon- 
strates. But  the  point  to  which  we  wish  to  draw  your 
attention,  is  the  difference  which  exists  between  the 
deliberate  acts  of  the  will,  and  the  immanent  acts  ;  the 
one  always  contemplating  some  action  as  its  immediate 
fruit  and  effect  —  and  the  other,  never.  Hence  it  is  pro- 
per, with  respect  to  one  class  of  volitions,  to  say  you  can 


ON    THE    WILL. 


Ill 


do  thus  or  thus,  if  you  will,  or  you  can  do  this  or  that, 
if  you  would  •  because  in  such  cases  you  speak  of  an 
action,  which  would  follow  as  the  immediate  consequent 
of  volition,  and  which  is  suspended  upon  that  volition  ; 
but  there  is  no  propriety  in  such  language  when  applied 
to  the  other  class  of  volitions — that  is,  to  the  immanent 
acts  of  the  will ;  for  here  no  action  is  contemplated,  or 
will  follow  upon  the  existence  of  such  acts.  They  are 
neither  produced  by  preceding  acts  of  will,  nor  do  they 
produce  acts  of  any  kind ;  they  spring  up,  as  we  have 
said,  spontaneously  in  view  of  their  several  objects,  and 
have  no  other  antecedents  than  these  objects  themselves, 
and  the  powers  and  susceptibilities  and  habits  of  the 
mind.  Let  it  not  be  forgotten  then  that  when  such  ex- 
pressions are  used  as  "you  can  if  you  will,  and  you  could 
if  you  would,"  respect  is  always  had,  or  should  be  had, 
to  a  deliberate  act  of  the  will — and  to  some  action  as  its 
appropriate  result — and  not  to  an  immanent  act,  which 
terminates  on  no  such  action,  but  simply  on  some  object 
in  which  it  rests.  This  opens  the  way  for  a  4th  remark, 
namely,  That  deliberate  acts  of  the  will,  as  they  never 
arise  but  in  view  of  some  action,  so  they  never  arise  but 
in  view  of  some  action  which  we  believe  to  be  in  our 
power,  and  which  we  expect  as  the  immediate  conse- 
quent of  our  volition.  For  why  should  we  attempt  to 
act,  if  we  knew,  or  believed  beforehand,  it  would  be  in 
vain.  Such  an  attempt  would  be  irrational,  and  without 
motive.  Hence,  deliberate  acts  of  the  will  are  always 
connected  with  belief — and  with  belief  of  the  possibility 
of  something  to  be  done,  and  done  by  us  ;  and  they  would 
not  arise  but  for  the  prior  existence  of  such  belief.  Now 
it  is  entirely  different  with  the  immanent  acts  of  the  will ; 
they  arise  without  believing  the  practicability  of  any- 
thing, because  nothing  practicable  or  impracticable  is  con- 
templated as  the  result  of  their  exercise.  They  termi- 
nate on  an  object  pleasing  or  displeasing  to  the  mind,  not 


H2  ON    THE    WILL. 

on  an  action,  bodily  or  mental,  as  the  expected  conse- 
quent and  fruit  of  their  existence.  There  is  belief,  indeed, 
prior  or  coincident  with  their  being — belief  in  the  objects 
which  excite  them — belief  in  their  own  existence,  when 
to  the  mind's  apprehension  or  consciousness  they  do  exist 
— and  belief  also  in  the  subject  mind,  whose  acts  or  exer- 
cises they  are  ;  but  there  is  no  belief  in  any  practicable 
result  from  their  exercise  in  order  to  their  exercise ;  nor  is 
there  any  belief  in  their  own  possibility,  or  practicability, 
as  feelings  or  states  of  mind — none,  I  mean,  as  the  ante- 
cedent ground  or  cause  of  their  existence.  They  arise, 
as  we  have  more  than  once  remarked,  spontaneously,  in 
view  of  their  appropriate  objects ;  and  men  know  that 
they  can  love  or  hate,  because  they  do  love  or  hate- 
just  as  they  know  that  they  can  reason  and  remember, 
because  they  do  reason  and  remember.  When  a  mother 
looks  upon  the  smiling  infant  in  her  arms,  and  her  bosom 
heaves  with  affection,  does  she  first  consider  the  practi- 
cability of  her  love,  and  believe  her  love  attainable,  before 
she  exercises  love  ?  Everybody  knows  to  the  contrary ; 
and  so  far  as  the  mere  act  of  volition  is  concerned,  it  may 
well  be  questioned  whether  the  belief  that  I  can  will  or 
can  nill  has  anything  at  all  to  do,  as  the  antecedent 
ground  or  cause  of  willing  in  any  case.  For  how  does 
a  man  know  that  he  has  the  capacity  of  willing  in 
one  form  or  another,  but  by  the  mere  fact  that  he  does 
will,  and  in  such  forms  as  this  class  of  phenomena  as- 
sumes. Still  we  do  not  take  back  the  statement,  that 
our  deliberate  acts  of  will  always  arise  in  connection 
with  a  belief  of  the  practicability  of  the  thing  willed,  or 
of  the  action  chosen.  For  this  enters  into  the  motive  for 
willing  it,  and  without  such  belief  no  rational  induce- 
ment would  exist.  But  who  does  not  see  a  difference 
between  believing  the  action,  or  thing  willed,  to  be  prac- 
ticable, and  believing  the  volition  which  antecedes  the 
action  to  be  so  ?  It  is  one  thing,  surely,  to  believe  that 


ON    THE    WILL. 

I  can  raise  my  hand  to  my  head,  and  another  that  I  have 
a  capacity  for  willing  or  choosing  it,  when  adequate  mo- 
tives are  presented.  But  be  this  as  it  may,  the  imma- 
nent acts  of  the  will  stand  in  no  connection  with  the 
practicability  of  any  results  as  flowing  from  them.  They 
contemplate  no  results,  they  believe  none — none  cer- 
tainly as  the  antecedent  cause  or  ground  of  their  exist- 
ence. 

What,  then,  shall  we  think  of  that  philosophy  or  divin- 
ity which  makes  no  distinction  between  immanent  and 
deliberate  acts  of  the  will  ?  and  none  between  the  action 
willed  and  the  act  of  willing — and  assumes  that  neither 
the  one  nor  the  other  can  exist  without  a  previous  or  con- 
comitant belief  that  it  will  or  may  exist  ?  "  You  cannot 
love  God,  till  you  believe  that  you  can ;  nor  hate  sin  till 
you  believe  that  you  can."  '  And  hence  the  great  im- 
portance of  persuading  men,  not  only  that  they  have  all 
the  ability  which  is  requisite  to  obligation,  but  all  that  is 
necessary  to  make  sure  of  its  performance ;  for  until  this 
persuasion  exists,  they  in  fact  can  do  nothing,  and  will 
do  nothing,  because  there  is  no  adequate  motive  to  action. 
For  as  men  never  will  an  action  till  they  believe  that 
action  practicable;  so  they  cannot  will  to  love,  or  hate, 
till  they  believe  these  acts  or  exercises  practicable ' — 
taking  it  for  granted  that  the  cases  are  precisely  par- 
allel ;  whereas,  to  an  eye  not  hoodwinked  by  ignorance 
or  blinded  by  prejudice,  the  two  cases  compared  will 
appear  wide  as  the  poles.  In  the  one,  an  action  is  con- 
templated and  sought,  as  the  fruit  of  volition,  and  believed 
to  be  its  legitimate  consequent :  in  the  other,  there  is  no 
such  action  recognized,  sought,  or  believed  at  all.  In  the 
one  case,  something  is  designed  or  intended :  in  the 
other,  there  is  no  design,  purpose  or  intention,  whatso- 
ever ;  but  the  mind  simply  loves  or  hates,  is  pleased  or 
displeased,  with  the  object  it  beholds. 

I  close  by  saying  not  in  the  words,  but  in  the  spirit  of 
8 


ON  THE  WILL- 

an  ingenious  author,  who  has  written  an  Introduction  to 
Edwards  on  the  Will,  that  until  we  mark  with  care  the 
different  classes  of  feelings  called  acts  of  the  will,  we  can 
never  hope  to  understand  the  subject  of  human  volition, 
nor  bring  to  a  successful  issue  the  disputes  which  relate 
to  it. 


LECTURE    II. 


ON    THE    WILL. 


IN  the  remarks  already  submitted  in  a  former  lecture, 
on  the  subject  of  the  will,  we  attempted  to  show  a  broad 
line  of  distinction,  between  what  are  denominated  im- 
manent, and  deliberate  acts  of  the  will ;  that  though 
exercises  of  the  same  faculty,  they  are  very  differently 
circumstanced — and  that  things  predicable  of  the  one, 
are  not  necessarily  predicable  of  the  other.  We  men- 
tioned four  particulars  in  which  they  stand  distinguished. 

1st.  The  deliberate,  or  imperate  acts  of  the  will  are 
always  connected  with  our  operative  faculties,  and  ter- 
minate on  some  action  which  we  believe  to  be  in  our 
power,  while  the  immanent  acts  never  thus  terminate. 
They  fix  on  no  action ;  they  flow  out  in  none,  except 
so  far  as  they  become  motives,  or  incentives,  to  delibe- 
rate acts  of  the  will. 

2d.  That  virtue  and  vice  are  primarily  and  properly 
predicable  of  immanent  acts  of  the  will  only — the  delibe- 
rate acts  not  constituting,  but  merely  indicating,  the 
character  of  the  moral  agent. 

3d.  That  in   such  phrases  as  these,    "A  man  can  if 
he  will,  or  could  if  he  would,  or  may  if  he  please"  respect 
must  always  be  had  to  a  deliberate  act  of  the  will,  because 
such  phrases  can  have  no  application  to  an  immanent 
act.     An  immanent  act  contemplates  no  action  as  its  im- 


116  ON    THE    WILL. 

mediate  fruit,  or  effect,  and  is  followed  by  none.  Neither 
action  therefore,  nor  the  power  of  action,  is  immediately 
suspended  upon  it,  as  in  the  case  of  a  deliberate  act  of 
the  will,  and 

4th.  That  deliberate  acts  of  the  will  never  arise,  but 
in  view  of  some  action  of  our  own,  and  some  action  which 
we  believe  to  be  in  our  power,  and  which  we  anticipate 
as  the  consequent  of  our  volition.  But  with  the  imma- 
nent acts  of  the  will,  it  is  otherwise.  They  arise  spon- 
taneously, in  view  of  their  appropriate  objects,  without 
considering  whether  anything  in  relation  to  them  is 
practicable  or  impracticable.  They  contemplate  no 
results,  as  the  ground  of  their  exercise,  and  properly 
aim  at  none.  They  terminate  on  no  action,  bodily  or 
mental,  as  their  expected  consequent — and  hence  there 
is  no  belief  in  relation  to  the  consequent ;  whether  it 
will  or  will  not  follow. 

If  these  distinctions  are  well  founded,  it  will  be  seen, 
at  once,  that  they  are  vitally  important ;  and  that  no 
clear  views  of  the  subject  of  human  volition  can  ever 
be  attained,  while  these  distinctions  are  either  overlooked 
or  disregarded. 

To  the  second  of  these  distinctions,  I  propose  now  to 
ask  your  renewed  attention :  and  I  do  it  for  two  reasons ; 
first,  because  it  is  peculiarly  important  in  itself,  and 
secondly,  because  it  draws  after  it  consequences  of  the 
deepest  moment  to  moral  and  religious  truth. 

The  distinction  is  this  :  That  virtue  and  vice  are  pri- 
marily and  properly  predicable  of  immanent  acts  of  the 
will  only,  the  deliberate  acts  merely  indicating,  not  con- 
stituting the  character  of  the  moral  agent. 

That  this  was  the  opinion  of  Edwards,  there  cannot 
be  the  least  doubt ;  for  besides  what  he  said  touching 
this  subject  in  his  Treatise  on  the  Will,  I  present  you  with 
a  strong  quotation  from  a  subsequent  work  of  his,  on 
original  sin  (page  171) :  "This,"  says  he,  "  is  the  gene- 


ON    THE    WILL. 


117 


ral  notion  (of  mankind) — not  that  principles  derive  their 
goodness  from  actions,  but  that  actions  derive  their  good- 
ness from  the  principles  whence  they  proceed ;  so  that 
the  act  of  choosing  that  which  is  good,  is  no  farther 
virtuous,  than  it  proceeds  from  a  good  principle,  or 
virtuous  disposition  of  mind." 

By  choosing,  in  this  passage  he  obviously  means  a 
deliberate  act  of  choice,  which  terminates  on  something 
to  be  done  or  not  done  ;  and  by  principle,  or  virtuous 
disposition  of  mind,  he  means  something  of  which  the 
mind  is  conscious,  and  which  is  seen  to  be  virtuous — 
some  right  affection  of  the  mind,  something,  which  ac- 
cording to  him,  may  be  distinguished  from  ambition,  or 
mere  self-love — and  therefore  most  certainly  some  exercise 
or  emotion.  In  close  connection  with  this  passage,  he 
quotes  with  approbation,  from  Mr.  Hutchison,  the  follow- 
ing paragraph : 

"  Every  action  which  we  apprehend,  as  either  morally 
good,  or  morally  evil,  is  always  supposed  to  flow  from 
some  affections  towards  sensitive  natures.    And  whatever 
we  call  virtue  or  vice,  is  either  some  such  affection,  or 
some  action  consequent  upon  it.     All  the  actions  counted 
religious  in  any  country,  are   supposed,  by  those  who 
count  them  so,  to  flow  from  some  affections  towards  the 
Deity,  and  whatever  we  call  social  virtue,  we  still  sup- 
pose to  flow from  affections  towards  our  fellow-creatures." 
Here  is  a  full  recognition  of  the  fact,  that  all  virtue 
and  vice  have  their  seat  in  the  affections,  and  that  no 
act  of  the  will,   which  is  consequent  upon  them,  has 
moral  character  any  farther  than  as  it  is  expressive  of 
the  state  of  the  affections.     So  it  must  be,  if  "  actions 
derive  their  goodness  from  their  principles,    as   Edwards 
teaches ;  and  if  "  the  act  of  choosing  that  which  is  good, 
be  no  farther  virtuous  than  as  it  proceeds  from  a  virtuous 
disposition  of  mind"     Because,  if  you  separate  the  choice 
from  the  affection  which  gave  birth  to  it,  you  instantly 
take  away  its  virtuous  character  ;  and  if  you  attach  to  it 


ON    THE    WILL. 

a  vicious  affection,  as  the  spring,  or  source  of  its  exer- 
cise, you  render  the  choice  vicious,  and  not  virtuous.  And 
the  same  may  be  said  of  the  action  or  thing  chosen.  Its 
moral  character,  so  far  as  it  has  any,  is  wholly  derived 
from  the  state  of  moral  feeling  which  induced  the  agent 
to  act  in  the  case. 

The  conclusion  we  draw  from  the  foregoing  statement 
is,  that  strictly  speaking,  all  right  and  wrong  attaching 
to  moral  agents,  is  immediately  and  directly  predicable  of 
their  affections,  habits  or  dispositions — that  is,  of  the  im- 
manent acts  of  the  will,  and  whatever  is  included  in 
them ;  and  not  of  the  emanant  or  deliberate  acts  of  that 
faculty.  We  consider  this  just  as  certain  as  the  admit- 
ted maxim,  that  the  motive  of  the  action,  or  the  quo  animo, 
determines  the  character  of  the  action.  Hence  two  ob- 
vious corollaries. 

1st.  If  right  and  wrong  can  and  do  exist  anterior  to  the 
deliberate  acts  of  the  will,  and  independent  of  them, 
then  moral  agency  must  exist  anterior  also,  and  be  alike 
independent  of  such  deliberate  acts.  For  it  would  be 
absurd  to  suppose  that  there  is  either  right  or  wrong  in 
a  moral  sense,  where  there  is  no  obligation,  no  law — or 
that  there  should  be  obligation,  where  there  is  no  moral 
agent,  or  subject  of  law.  In  the  order  of  nature,  at  least, 
moral  agency  must  precede  law  ;  and  law  must  precede 
conformity,  or  non-conformity,  to  its  demands. 

2d.  If  moral  agency  exists  anterior  to  the  deliberate 
acts  of  the  will,  then  it  is  not  necessary  to  resort  to  these, 
nor  to  any  of  the  principles  or  laws  by  which  they  are 
governed,  to  ascertain  what  moral  agency  is,  and  what  is 
essential  to  its  being.  It  has  gained  complete  existence, 
before  these  acts  of  the  will  occur,  and  their  occurrence 
does  nothing  more  than  indicate  or  proclaim  the  charac- 
ter of  the  agent.  They  afford  probable  evidence  whether 
his  agency  has  been  exercised  in  conformity  to  law,  or 
against  it — and,  so  far  as  blame  or  praise  worthiness  is 
concerned,  this  is  all  they  can  do. 


ON    THE    WILL. 


119 


To  what  purpose  then  is  it  asked,  whether  in  our 
deliberate  and  determinate  volitions,  we  have  power  to 
choose  otherwise  than  we  do  choose  ? — whether  the 
strongest  motive  governs  the  will  in  this  case,  or  does 
not  govern  it  ? — whether  we  believe  the  object  thus 
chosen  to  be  in  our  power,  or  not  in  our  power  ?  To 
what  purpose  are  these,  and  similar  questions  asked, 
with  a  view  to  settle  our  accountability,  when,  if  the 
foregoing  statement  is  true,  the  whole  business  of  our 
responsibility  is  settled  before  we  come  to  these  questions, 
settled  by  the  voice  of  conscience,  and  the  common  sense 
of  mankind,  attesting  the  indubitable  fact,  that  our  blame 
and  praise  worthiness,  primarily  and  radically  consists  in 
those  moral  affections  which  antecede  all  our  deliberate 
choices,  and  give  character  to  them,  so  far  as  character 
they  have. 

Most  certain  it  is,  that  if  these  antecedent  affections 
have  a  moral  character,  he  is  responsible  for  them 
whose  affections  they  are — they  are  properly  placed  to 
his  account,  as  his  acts,  his  exercises,  for  which  as  an 
accountable  being  he  must  answer.  To  say  that  they  have 
moral  character,  and  yet  the  subject  of  them  not  respon- 
sible, would  be  manifestly  absurd :  for  nothing  can  have 
moral  character  which  is  not  referable  to  law ;  and  what 
reference  can  there  be  to  law,  where  there  is  no  subject 
of  law,  and  no  acts  of  such  subject  to  be  referred  ?  To 
admit  that  these  affections  are  morally  good,  or  morally 
evil,  is,  of  course,  to  admit  that  the  subject  of  them,  so 
far  as  they  are  concerned,  sustains  the  same  character, 
and  that  upon  the  ground  of  his  being  a  moral  agent, 
who,  in  the  exercise  of  these  affections,  has  exercised 
his  moral  agency.  At  this  very  point  it  is,  that  tile  law 
of  God  reaches  us,  and  our  whole  character  is  deter- 
mined in  his  sight,  not  by  what  we  deliberately  will  or 
propose,  but  by  those  affections,  which  we  exercise  ante- 
rior to  all  deliberate  volitions  or  purposes  whatsoever. 


120  ON    THE    WILL. 

Do  we  not  find  our  moral  agency  complete,  then, 
before  we  come  to  our  deliberate  and  determinate  voli- 
tions ?  How  else  could  we  be  responsible  for  those 
anterior  and  primary  choices,  which  we  call  affections 
and  desires  ?  and  how  else  could  the  entire  moral  char- 
acter be  measured  in  God's  sight,  and  decided  by  these  ? 

The  ground  which  we  take  is,  that  the  law  of  God 
reaches  man  in  the  earliest  development  of  his  moral 
feelings,  and  requires  him,  first  of  all,  to  love  his  Maker 
with  all  his  heart,  soul,  strength  and  mind,  and  his 
neighbor  as  himself: — of  course  that  it  prohibits  what- 
soever is  contrary  to  this;  be  it  an  immoderate  regard 
to  himself,  or  to  any  of  the  creatures,  which  God  has 
made,  when  compared  with  Him,  who  is  the  infinite 
source  of  being,  and  the  sum  of  all  excellence.  We 
admit,  indeed,  that  a  thousand  other  things  are  required 
of  man,  in  filling  up  the  sphere  of  his  activity ;  yet  all  is 
to  be  done  as  the  proper  fruit  and  expression  of  that  love 
which  the  law^  immediately  and  primarily  enjoins.  And 
God  is  no  farther  obeyed  than  this  great  law  of  love  is 
actually  complied  with.  Do  what  you  will — purpose 
what  you  will — there  is  not  a  particle  more  of  virtue  in 
it,  than  there  is  of  that  holy,  disinterested  love,  which 
the  law  immediately  respects,  and  which  ought  to  be 
the  great  incentive  to  every  deliberate  act  and  purpose 
of  the  soul. 

This  cannot  well  be  denied,  and  perhaps  will  be 
cheerfully  conceded :  at  the  same  time  we  may  be  told, 
that  we  overlook  an  important  fact  in  the  case,  namely, 
That  man,  as  a  rational  and  moral  being,  has  the  power 
of  introverted  action,  can  turn  his  eye  inward  upon  him- 
self, and  act  upon  himself.  Not  only  is  he  able  to 
consider  his  ways  and  his  doings,  but  the  causes  and 
springs  of  those  ways  and  those  doings.  He  can  bring 
before  his  mind  facts  and  considerations,  which  are 
fitted  to  abate  the  strength  of  his  wrong  affections,  and 


ON    THE    WILL. 

to  awaken  and  invigorate  those  which  are  virtuous.  In 
short,  that  he  can  modify  his  motives  in  the  requisite 
manner  and  degree,  in  consequence  of  the  power,  direct 
or  indirect,  which  his  will  has  over  the  objects  which 
excite  his  affections  or  desires.  Were  it  not  for  this 
power,  he  could  not  be  bound  to  have  his  affections 
otherwise  than  they  are ;  but  with  it,  it  is  reasonable  he 
should  be  required  to  place  his  affections  on  the  right 
objects  and  in  the  right  measure. 

This  is  the  ground  taken  by  Chalmers  and  a  host  of 
others ;  and  on  this  ground,  they  rest  the  moral  respon- 
sibility of  man.  They  contend  that  without  this  power, 
man  would  not  be  a  moral  agent,  nor  obliged  to  regulate 
his  affections  according  to  the  Divine  law.  They  do  not 
assert  that  man  can  directly  will  his  affections  into  exist- 
ence, or  will  them  out — that  is,  by  the  simple  bidding 
of  his  will  can  place  them  on  this  object,  or  on  that,  con- 
trolling them  as  a  man  controls  his  limbs,  by  a  direct 
act  of  choice.  They  were  too  well  versed  in  the  laws 
of  mind,  to  adopt  an  opinion  so  utterly  inconsistent  with 
the  state  of  facts.  Nor  do  they  pretend  that  he  has  the 
power  to  will  objects  into,  or  out  of  his  mind,  by  a  simple 
act  of  volition.  They  admit  that  the  law  of  suggestion 
or  association,  has  something  to  do  in  this  business,  and 
that  often  great  difficulty  is  experienced  in  getting  rid 
of  one  set  of  objects,  and  replacing  them  with  others. 
Yet,  on  the  whole,  they  think  man  has  the  power  of 
doing  this  directly  or  indirectly  ;  and  if  not  at  once,  still 
by  degrees,  and  in  such  measure,  that  he  may  reasonably 
be  held  responsible  to  do  it.  For  if  he  has  the  power, 
he  is  bound  to  exercise  it,  and  in  so  doing,  to  control  his 
affections  by  bringing  before  his  mind  the  right  objects, 
and  shutting  out  from  it  the  wrong  ones.  By  a  process 
of  this  kind,  it  is  contended  that  virtuous  affections  may 
not  only  be  awakened,  but  carried  to  their  proper  height, 
and  vicious  affections  be  repressed  and  annihilated. 


122 


ON    THE    WILL. 


Agreeably  to  this  system,  man's  moral  agency  does  not 
begin,  and  much  less  end  in  the  mere  fact  of  his  having 
moral  affections,  or  immanent  acts  of  will,  but  is  prima- 
rily concerned,  and  properly  involved  in  his  deliberate 
acts.  As  a  contemplative  and  rational  being,  his  duty  is 
placed  before  him,  together  with  the  means  of  perform- 
ing it.  These  means  he  must  consider,  and  determine 
to  employ ;  and  in  this  determination,  or  in  its  opposite, 
his  moral  agency  begins  and  ends ;  and  that  prior  to 
this,  or  back  of  this,  there  is  neither  agency  nor  account- 
ability. 

This  is  the  spot,  the  very  spot,  where  many  of  the 
mighty  have  fallen ;  and  here  it  becomes  us  to  pause  and 
look  about  us,  and  if  we  have  any  armor,  to  put  it  on. 
For  if  this  doctrine  be  true,  then  is  the  system  of  Ed- 
wards overthrown — then  does  conscience  give  a  falla- 
cious testimony — and  the  Bible  itself  become  an  enigma, 
which  no  philosophy  can  explain,  nor  the  unlettered 
multitude  understand.  Only  say  that  there  is  neither 
right  nor  wrong  in  what  are  called  the  moral  affections, 
any  farther  than  they  are  cherished  by  a  deliberate  act  of 
the  will,  and  we  shall  not  only  contradict  the  common 
sense  of  mankind,  but  take  a  step,  which  goes  far  to- 
wards shutting  both  virtue  and  vice  out  of  the  world. 
For,  according  to  this  system,  what  is  virtue,  and  what 
is  vice  ?  Not  the  existence  of  right  and  wrong  affec- 
tions, but  the  mere  indulgence  or  prolongation  of  these  by 
a  deliberate  act  of  the  will.  Apart  from  this  act,  there 
is  no  vice,  and  no  virtue.  It  is  this,  this  act  alone, 
which  constitutes  the  essence  of  moral  action,  and  the 
nature  and  sum  of  all  merit  or  demerit  in  any  case. 
Such  is  the  doctrine.  But  here  it  is  natural  to  inquire, 
whether  this  deliberate  act  of  the  will  took  place  with- 
out motive  ?  No  one,  I  suppose,  will  pretend  that  it 
did,  and  if  it  were  pretended,  it  would  be  absurd  on  two 
accounts.  First,  because  no  reason  could  then  be  as- 


ON    THE    WILL. 


123 


signed  why  the  volition  was  thus,  and  not  otherwise. 
And  secondly,  because  it  could  have  no  moral  character 
of  any  kind.  Influenced  by  nothing,  it  would  be  a  mere 
determination  to  act  without  an  end.  But  suppose  the 
volition  occurred  through  the  influence  of  motive — where 
can  you  find  that  motive,  but  in  some  previous  state  or 
feeling  of  the  mind,  which  inclined  it  to  cherish  the 
affection  in  the  case  ?  Are  we  not,  then,  carried  back  to 
something  antecedent  to  the  volition  to  cherish  ?  and  to 
something,  too,  which  gives  character  to  the  volition,  if 
character,  it  can  have  ?  Why  did  I  will  to  cherish  the 
supposed  affection,  be  it  virtuous  or  vicious  ?  There  must 
be  some  cause,  ground  or  reason  (if  you  would  not  have  an 
effect  without  a  cause).  The  cause  was  doubtless  no 
other  than  the  motive  which  determined  me.  But  what 
was  the  motive  ?  Say,  in  the  case  of  the  virtuous  affec- 
tion ?  Was  it  a  love  for  the  virtuous  affection  itself? 
Did  I  contemplate  it  with  delight,  and  hence  desire  its 
continuance  ?  Then  that  affection  was  lovely,  it  seems, 
in  my  estimation  at  least,  before  I  loved  it ;  and  did  not 
become  so  in  consequence  of  my  love,  or  of  my  deter- 
mination to  cherish  it.  Was  it  a  dutiful  regard  to  God, 
or  his  law,  which  determined  me  ?  Then,  according  to 
the  unequivocal  voice  of  conscience,  the  motive  was 
virtuous.  It  involved  a  feeling  or  state  of  mind  which 
every  one  must  recognize  as  right  in  itself,  and  distinct- 
ly required  in  the  Divine  law.  But  if  virtuous  at  all,  it 
was  so  without  being  produced  by  any  antecedent  voli- 
tion, whether  directly  or  indirectly ;  because  no  such 
volition  is  supposed,  or  can  be  supposed,  in  the  case. 

I  make  another  supposition.  I  was  determined,  by 
neither  of  the  preceding  motives,  to  cherish  what  I  re- 
garded as  a  virtuous  affection,  but  was  influenced  wholly 
by  self-love.  My  own  interest,  not  a  regard  to  God's 
honor,  or  the  good  of  others,  was  my  inducement  to  act. 
Was  this  self-love  a  virtuous  feeling  ?  It  is  the  spring  of 


ON    THE    WILL. 

many  a  specific  volition ;  and,  in  the  unrenewed  man,  is 
doubtless  a  commanding  principle  of  action.     But  I  ask, 
is  it  virtuous  ?  or  can  it  be  supposed  that  an  act  of  the 
will,  moved   and  determined  by  it,  will  meet  the  ap- 
probation of  Heaven,  when  it  must  be  conceded  that 
those  higher  motives  which  the  law  requires  are  alto- 
gether wanting  ?     There  is,  in  truth,  no  cause  for  doubt 
here.     Yet  some  one  may  say  it  is  absurd  to  suppose 
that  a  man  should  resolve  to  cherish  a  virtuous  affection, 
from  mere  self-love,  because  the  very  existence  of  such 
affection  involves  a  virtuous  state  of  mind,  incompatible 
with  reigning  selfishness  at  the  moment.     We  admit  the 
case  to  be  so.     But  who  does  not  perceive  that  this  is 
going  upon  the  supposition  that  the  affection  to  be  cher- 
ished is,  in  itself,  virtuous,  and  virtuous,  antecedent  to  any 
purpose  to  cherish  or  prolong  it  ?     But  taking  the  ground 
of  my  opponent,  that  what  is  called  virtuous  affection 
is  not  virtuous  per  se,  but  becomes  so,  if  so  at  all,  by  a 
resolution  to  cherish  it;  or  rather,  what  is  more  properly 
intended,  that  this  resolution  itself  is  all  the  virtue  there 
is  in  the  case.     On  this  ground,  I  say,  I  see  not  why  the 
purpose,  or  will  to  cherish  the  supposed  affection,  may 
not  as  well   arise  from   selfishness  as  from  any  other 
source,  because  the  character  of  the  volition  is  not  ad- 
mitted to  depend  on  the  motive  or  principle  from  which 
it  proceeds.     Where  then  is  virtue  ?  and  where  is  vice  ? 
They  are  both  shut  from  the  world,  unless  we  can  be 
made  to  believe  that  a  deliberate  act  of  the  will  has  moral 
character,  aside  from,  and  independent  of,  the  motive 
which  governs  it.    But  can  we  be  made  to  believe  this,  so 
long  as  the  quo  animo  shall  be  regarded  as  a  sine  qua  non 
in  the  decision  of  moral  character  ?     A  deliberate  act  of 
the  will,  without  motive,  nobody  supposes  to  be  possible, 
or  if  possible  could  possess  any  moral  quality.     And  such 
an  act,  with  motive,  must  derive  its  character  from  the 
motive  which  determined  it,  unless  our  consciousness 


ON    THE    WILL. 


125 


deceive  us,  and  the  settled  notions  of  mankind  on  this 
subject  be  unfounded.  But  allow  this,  and  you  give 
moral  character  to  motive — and  to  him  whose  motive  it 
is — and  that  antecedently  to  the  volition  it  occasioned 
or  determined.  Thus  you  carry  back  moral  agency  to 
those  primary  feelings,  or  immanent  acts  of  the  will, 
which  are  prior  to  all  deliberative  acts.  Perhaps,  how- 
ever, it  will  be  said  that  we  have  not  reconnoitered  the 
whole  ground ;  that  feeling  or  affection  is  not  the  only 
motive  by  which  the  will  may  be  swayed  in  moral  mat- 
ters ;  that  judgment  and  the  moral  sense  often  furnish  in- 
ducement to  action,  when  the  heart  is  altogether  indiffer- 
ent or  averse  to  the  thing  proposed ;  and  that,  for  aught 
we  know,  a  man  may  be  led  to  yield  to  the  claims  of 
duty  from  the  dictates  of  conscience  alone.  Suppose  it 
were  so.  Can  we  make  the  inference  that  he  has  acted 
virtuously  ?  virtuously,  I  mean,  in  the  highest  and  best 
sense  of  the  term  ?  Will  God  approve  him  as  having 
done  his  duty,  in  the  absence  of  those  motives  which  he 
can  never  fail  to  require.  Let  us  put  a  case. 

A  man  deliberates  whether  he  shall  pay  a  just  debt, 
having  found  that  no  law  of  man  can  compel  him  so  to 
do.  He  perceives  his  obligation  to  yield  to  the  demand 
of  justice  ;  and  conscience  suggests  the  fitness  of  the 
thing,  and  the  intrinsic  baseness  of  refusing  to  another 
what  he  would  certainly  desire  and  claim  for  him- 
self. It  reminds  him  that  God  is  looking  on,  and 
that  the  day  of  recompense  will  come.  Thus  prompted, 
he  determines  to  pay  the  debt,  and  perhaps  feels  a 
degree  of  self-approbation  in  what  he  has  done.  But 
was  it  truly  a  virtuous  determination  ?  such  as  the 
all-seeing  eye  of  God  will  approve  ?  By  the  supposi- 
tion, there  was  no  love  to  his  neighbor,  no  regard 
to  the  Divine  honor,  either  felt  or  expressed  on  the 
occasion.  How,  then,  could  the  act  be  virtuous  in  the 
sight  of  Him  whose  law  is  summed  up  in  love — love 


ON  THE  WILL- 

to  himself  and  to  the  creatures  he  has  made  ?  But  this 
is  not  all ;  we  have  gone  upon  the  supposition  that  the 
heart  was  not  enlisted,  because  no  right  feeling  prompt- 
ed to  the  action.  But  was  it  not  enlisted  ?  Was  it  not 
moved  by  supreme  self-love  ?  The  man  whose  deter- 
mination we  are  considering,  had  a  deep  interest  at 
stake,  and  one  which  he  could  not  fail  to  see  and  to  feel. 
Nor  does  it  seem  possible  that  he  should  not  have  been 
influenced  by  it.  But  conscience,  you  will  say,  moved 
him.  Very  true ;  but  what  chiefly  gave  conscience  its 
power  ?  It  created  no  new  principles  of  action  in  the 
mind,  but  simply  addressed  those  which  were  already 
there.  It  decided,  indeed,  what  ought  to  be  done ;  but 
in  urging  a  compliance  with  duty,  its  chief  power  lay  in 
stimulating  the  natural  feelings  or  desires.  In  the  self- 
ish bosom  it  deals  principally  with  hope  and  fear,  and 
influences  to  right  action,  (in  form,  at  least,)  not  so 
much  because  it  is  right — a  motive  which  the  unsancti- 
fied  never  truly  feel — but  because  of  the  good,  or  the  iU, 
which  stands  connected  with  heeding  or  disregarding 
the  call  of  duty.  This  good,  or  this  ill,  is  the  great,  if  not 
the  only  impelling  power  in  the  mind  of  an  unrenewed 
man.  Where  there  are  higher  principles,  as  in  the  heart 
of  the  truly  virtuous,  conscience  may  excite  them,  and  be 
the  occasion  of  their  more  vigorous  action ;  but  where 
they  are  not,  (though  it  requires  them,)  it  would  be  un- 
reasonable to  suppose  that  it  can  either  address  them  or 
produce  them.  What  is  conscience,  when  developed, 
but  our  moral  judgment,  with  reference  to  a  supposed 
action,  pronouncing  it  right  or  wrong,  and  the  emotion 
of  self-approbation  or  remorse  which  usually  attends  it  ? 
In  this  operation  of  the  mind  there  is  neither  virtue  nor 
vice,  nor  can  it  be  regarded  as  the  immediate  and  pro- 
per source  of  any.  We  do  not  deny  that  conscience  is 
one  of  the  constituent  principles  of  a  moral  agent,  and,  in 
this  respect,  necessary  to  acts  of  a  moral  character ;  but 


ON    THE    WILL.  127 

in  itself,  we  say,  it  has  no  such  character.  Though 
favorable  to  virtue,  as  it  shows  its  obligations  and  urges 
their  fulfillment,  still  it  neither  constitutes  virtue  nor 
necessarily  leads  to  it,  however  clear  in  its  convictions 
or  powerful  in  its  appeals.  And  the  reason  is,  it  can 
appeal  only  to  such  principles,  feelings  or  desires,  as 
actually  exist.  In  looking,  therefore,  for  the  essence  of 
moral  virtue,  we  must  go  beyond  the  dictates  and  emo- 
tions of  conscience ;  we  must  have  a  motive  which  the 
exercise  of  this  faculty  can  never  supply,  and  which  can 
be  found  only  in  the  immanent  exercises  of  the  will  or 
the  moral  affections.  This  we  take  to  be  just  as  cer- 
tain as  that  the  heart  is  the  seat  of  vice  or  virtue,  and 
that  the  operations  of  conscience  are  distinguishable 
from  the  affections  or  the  heart.  [See  note  A.  at  the 
end.] 

I  have  dwelt  longer  on  this  article,  because  some 
ascribe  to  conscience  a  power  which  evidently  does  not 
belong  to  it ;  a  power  not  only  of  showing  what  duty  is, 
and  of  urging  a  compliance  with  it,  by  an  appeal  to  those 
principles  and  feelings  which  the  mind  possesses,  but  of 
generating  new  and  correct  feelings,  and  thus  swaying 
it  by  motives  which  it  never  felt  before.  We  know  of 
no  facts  in  the  history  of  the  mind  which  can  sustain 
this  opinion,  while  there  are  some  at  least,  which  appear 
strongly  adverse  to  it.  Look  at  the  wretch  who  suffers 
the  keenest  remorse,  while  he  exhibits  not  a  particle  of 
contrition  but  whose  moral  feelings,  so  far  as  they  can  be 
judged  of,  are  as  wide  from  what  God  requires,  as  when 
slumbering  in  a  state  of  most  fearless  security.  Many 
such  cases  have  been  seen  in  this  world,  and  many  more 
will  be  seen  in  the  world  which  is  to  come,  where  con- 
science will  display  her  tremendous  power  in  convincing 
sinners,  not  only  of  their  past  misdeeds,  but  of  their 
present  obligations  and  their  hourly-increasing  guilt, 
while  it  urges  them  to  desist  from  their  desperate  war- 


128  ON  THE  WILL. 

fare  against  God,  but  urges  them  in  vain.  The  selfish 
heart  will  remain  selfish  still,  notwithstanding  the  con- 
stant and  powerful  appeals  of  conscience  against  sin,  and 
in  favor  of  the  Divine  law.  I  am  aware  it  may  be  said, 
that  in  that  world  hope  never  comes,  and  that  this  puts  a 
difference  between  a  sinner  on  earth  and  a  sinner  in  hell. 
True,  a  difference  exists,  and  a  great  difference,  in  point 
of  present  and  prospective  good.  But  what  has  this  to  do 
with  the  question  before  us;  the  nature  and  power  of 
conscience  as  a  principle  of  action  ?  Conscience  is  the 
same  principle  there  as  here  ;  it  makes  its  appeal  to  reason 
and  to  self-interest  no  less  in  that  world  than  in  this.  If 
it  does  not  address  hope,  it  addresses  fear,  which  is  only 
another  form  of  self-love ;  and,  as  a  motive  to  action,  just 
as  valuable  as  hope,  deriving  its  character  and  its  power 
from  the  same  generic  affection — a  regard  to  our  own 
welfare.  It  addresses  this  principle,  too,  under  many 
advantages,  the  alluring  objects  of  the  world  being  re- 
moved, and  with  them  all  doubts  of  the  reality  of  another 
and  eternal  world.  God,  his  law,  his  government,  stand 
forth  before  the  eye  of  the  soul,  in  all  their  matchless 
grandeur,  carrying  a  deep  and  everlasting  conviction  of 
the  justness  of  their  claims.  It  cannot  be  questioned  for 
a  moment,  that  it  is  the  sinner's  interest,  even  in  hell,  to 
cease  his  hostility  against  his  Maker;  nor  is  it  possible 
that  he  should  not  see  and  know  this  to  be  the  fact. 
Why,  then,  does  he  not  heed  the  voice  of  conscience,  and 
submit  to  rightful  authority,  instead  of  flying  in  the  face 
of  the  Almighty,  and  tempting  him  to  fiercer  vengeance  ? 
It  is  surely  not  for  want  of  clearly  understanding  the 
subject,  nor  because  self-love  or  self-interest  is  not  dis- 
tinctly and  powerfully  addressed,  but  because  neither 
understanding  nor  self-love,  however  appealed  to,  will 
induce  to  right  action,  where  the  mind  has  lost  its  recti- 
tude, and  is  under  the  reigning  power  of  sin.  Why 
should  they  ?  Considered  as  principles  or  motives,  how 


ON     THE    WILL. 


129 


can  they  impart  to  an  action  a  character  which  they 
in  no  wise  possess  ?  "  Either  make  the  tree  good  and 
the  fruit  good,  or  the  tree  corrupt  and  the  fruit  corrupt. 
A  good  man  out  of  the  good  treasure  of  his  heart  bring- 
eth  forth  good  things,  and  an  evil  man  out  of  the  evil 
treasure  of  his  heart  bringeth  forth  evil  things."  As  is 
the  heart  or  the  affections,  such  will  be  the  volition,  the 
deliberate  volition,  which  proceeds  from  it ;  the  motive  and 
the  volition  always  possessing  the  same  character,  so  far 
as  character  is  attributable  to  the  latter ;  and  this  not  in 
one  world,  but  in  all  worlds.  Were  it  possible  that  I 
could  be  induced  to  act,  by  a  mere  thought  or  intellec- 
tion, without  its  ever  touching  my  heart,  the  action  would 
possess  no  moral  character  of  any  kind;  or  if  I  were 
moved  by  self-love  to  any  deliberative  act  of  will,  that 
act  could  be  regarded  as  no  better  than  the  motive  which 
inspired  it ;  and  if  I  contravened  no  law  by  this  act,  it 
would  be  no  worse. 

We  come  then  to  the  same  conclusion  as  before,  that 
there  can  be  neither  virtue  nor  vice  in  the  world,  if  it 
be  not  found  in  the  moral  affections  or  immanent  acts  of 
the  will. 

The  mere  exercise  of  conscience,  we  have  seen,  has 
no  moral  character,  and  can  of  itself  directly  impart 
none.  This,  we  think,  must  be  evident  to  all  who  attend 
to  the  constitution  of  the  mind,  and  consider  the  relation 
which  the  several  powers  bear  to  each  other.  Unless 
we  give  up  the  principle  which  is  natural  to  every  man's 
creed,  that  the  nature  of  the  motive  decides  the  nature 
of  the  action,  we  shall  be  compelled  to  believe  that  there 
is  neither  vice  nor  virtue,  but  in  those  primary  feelings 
which  we  denominate  affections  or  immanent  acts  of  the 
will,  or  at  most  in  those  habits  and  tendencies  which 
these  involve. 

We  might  here  close  the  argument,  but  there  are  two 
or  three  other  points  which  demand  a  more   distinct 
9 


130  ON  THE  WILL- 

consideration.     These  we  shall  reserve    for  the   next 
lecture. 

[NOTE  A.]  A  mistake  has  often  arisen  on  this  subject,  from  not  distinctly 
apprehending  what  is  involved  in  acting  conscientiously.  To  act  conscientiously, 
in  the  highest  and  best  sense  of  the  expression,  is  not  only  to  do  the  thing  which 
conscience  dictates,  but  to  do  it  in  the  manner  and  form,  and  with  the  motives 
which  conscience  requires.  Thus  to  do  is  always  to  act  virtuously,  if  conscience 
be  properly  informed.  But  in  a  lower  sense,  a  man  is  sometimes  said  to  act  con- 
scientiously, when  he  merely  does  the  thing  which  conscience  demands,  though  not 
with  the  high  and  holy  motives  which  it  requires ;  as  when  he  keeps  the  Sabbath, 
or  pays  his  debts,  merely  or  chiefly  because  he  is  afraid  of  disturbing  his  own 
peace,  or  incurring  the  Divine  displeasure.  In  this  case,  we  should  all  admit 
that  there  was  no  true  virtue  in  his  conduct,  though  he  has,  to  a  certain  extent, 
acted  according  to  the  biddings  of  his  conscience.  That  conscience  prevails  with 
a  man,  (therefore,)  is  no  proof  that  he  has  done  right,  and  that  God  accepts  him, 
unless  you  know  on  what  grounds,  or  for  what  reasons,  it  has  prevailed ;  and  that 
these  were  such  as  the  Divine  law  makes  essential  to  right  action.  Overlooking 
this  important  circumstance  has  been  a  fruitful  source  of  mistake,  in  arguing  from 
conscience  as  a  principle  of  action.  Because  to  act  conscientiously  is,  in  some 
cases,  to  act  virtuously,  some  have  incautiously  inferred  that  conscience  was  itself 
a  principle  of  virtue,  and  that  wherever  it  prevailed,  the  motive,  of  course,  must 
be  right,  and  the  action  consequently  virtuous.  But  if  we  carefully  consider  what 
is  implied  in  acting  conscientiously,  and  the  different  senses  in  which  the  phrase  is 
often  employed,  we  shall  clearly  perceive  that  no  such  inference  can  be  drawn. 
Conscience,  when  truly  enlightened,  is  a  rule  of  action,  and  to  act  in  conformity 
to  it,  is  doubtless  to  act  virtuously ;  but  then  we  act  from  motives  which  conscience 
recommends,  but  which  conscience,  as  a  power  or  principle  of  the  mind,  can 
never  supply. 


LECTUEE  III. 


ON     THE    WILL. 


THE  doctrine  of  our  opponents  is,  that  we  are  made 
responsible  for  our  affections,  when  of  a  moral  character, 
because  we  have  the  power,  directly  or  indirectly,  to 
modify  them.  We  can  bring  before  the  mind  those 
objects  which  will  awaken  and  invigorate  the  right 
affections,  and  exclude  those  which  would  excite  and 
maintain  the  wrong  ones.  This  power,  say  they,  is 
lodged  in  the  will:  the  will  controls  the  objects,  and 
the  objects  the  affections.  And  hence  we  are  bound  to 
have  such  affections,  and  of  such  strength,  as  the  law  of 
God  requires,  and  to  repress  and  exclude  those  which 
the  law  of  God  forbids.  In  this  voluntary  effort  thus  to 
regulate  our  affections,  and  not  in  any  previous  state  of 
mind,  consists  the  essence  of  virtue ;  and  in  the  neglect 
of  this,  and  in  efforts  opposed  to  it,  lies  the  essence  of 
vice.  Herein  man's  moral  agency  begins,  if  it  does  not 
end. 

But  we  have  shown  already  that  this  voluntary  effort, 
by  which  is  intended  a  deliberative  act  of  the  will, 
cannot  arise  without  a  correspondent  motive ;  and  that 
this  motive  cannot  be  found  but  in  the  affections  or  irri- 
manent  acts  of  the  will,  which  lie  back  of  the  delibera- 
tive acts,  and  which  give  them  all  the  character  they 
possess. 

We  now  ask,  Why  should  these  affections  be  cher- 
ished when  right,  and  discouraged  when  wrong,  if  not  right 


°N  THE  WILL. 


and  wrong  in  themselves  —  at  least  at  the  time,  and  in 
the   .circumstances,  in  which  they  are   cherished?      It 
would  seem  as  if  they  were  so  regarded  by  the  mind, 
when  it  sets  itself  to  the  labor  of  cherishing  or  repressing 
them.     Nor  can  we  well  doubt  that  this  is  the  unbiased 
voice  of  the  moral  faculty  within  us.     But  it  may  be 
replied,  that  anger  is  not  wrong  per  se,  yet  may  become 
so  if  it  rises  to  excess  :  natural  affection  is  not  right  or 
wrong  per  se,  but  may  become  wrong,  both  by  excess 
and  defect.     Consequently,  though  these  affections  are 
neither  right  nor  wrong  in  themselves,  yet  the  law  re- 
quires us  to  regulate  them,  and  it  is  a  part  of  virtue  to 
do  this.     Suppose  it  were  so  —  what  follows  ?     Not  that 
we  have  no  moral  affections,  nor  that  these   affections 
are  not  the  source  or  spring  of  every  moral  act.     Say, 
for  example,  I  determine  to  restrain  the  passion  of  anger, 
which  I  apprehend  is  rising  to  excess,  and  that  I  en- 
deavor to  call  to  mind  those  facts  and  considerations 
which  I  judge  suitable  to  abate  the  fervor  of  my  spirit. 
Has  this  voluntary  effort  any  moral  character  ?     If  it  has, 
it  must  arise  from  the  motive  or  feeling  which  dictated 
and  governed  it.     [Suppose  I  repress  anger  from  cow- 
ardice, and  not  from  a  sense  of  its  sinfulness.]    So  that  in 
this  case  also  we  are   carried  back  to  the  heart,  or  the 
moral  affections,  as  the   spring-head  of  our  deliberate 
action,  and  the  proper  source  of  all  the  moral  character 
it  possesses.     But  have  we  in  fact  any  moral  affections  ? 
affections  which  are  moral  in  their  own  nature,  inde- 
pendent of  the  fact  of  their  being  regulated  or  not  ? 
affections  which  are  right  or  wrong  in  themselves,  whether 
they  exist  in  one  degree  (of  strength)  or  another  ?    What 
is  love  to  God,  and  love  to  man  ?     What  is  love  to  being 
in  general  —  a  love  which  is  disinterested,  impartial  and 
universal  ?    What  is  love  of  complacency  in  virtuous  and 
holy  beings  ?      Does  not  conscience  perceive   in  these 
affections  something  morally  excellent,  let  their  amount 


ON    THE    WILL. 


133 


or  degree  be  what  they  may  ?  And  does  it  not  perceive 
in  their  contraries  something  intrinsically  base  and  im- 
moral ?  What  is  envy,  malignity,  hatred,  revenge  ?  A 
man  praises  my  rival,  and  I  feel  a  painful  emotion,  not 
because  I  believe  the  praise  to  be  unjust,  but  because  I 
fear  it  is  too  sure  an  indication  of  my  competitor's  success. 
Is  this  feeling  wrong  per  se  ?  No  matter  how  it  origi- 
nates, nor  whether  it  is  a  simple  or  compound  feeling ; 
is  it  morally  wrong  in  every  degree  of  it  ?  or  does  its 
immoral  character  depend  on  its  strength  or  modification  ? 
Common  sense  will  be  at  no  loss  here.  Again :  The 
character  of  God  is  exhibited,  and  I  am  displeased  with 
it :  to  me  it  is  unlovely,  not  to  say  hateful.  Is  this  feel- 
ing wrong,  and  in  every  measure  of  it,  let  its  source  be 
what  it  may  ?  Every  unsophisticated  mind,  we  should 
think,  would  answer  in  the  affirmative.  But  it  may  and 
must  be  replied  by  my  opponents  :  It  is  wrong  because 
I  cherish  it,  and  do  nothing  to  remove  it.  But  what  if  I 
do  cherish  it  ?  How  does  this  make  it  wrrong,  if  not 
wrong  before  ?  Why  should  I  not  cherish  it  ?  Does  it 
break  any  law  ?  and  does  conscience  pronounce  it  wrong 
on  this  account  ?  Then  wrong  it  is,  antecedent  to  my 
cherishing  or  opposing  it,  because,  in  the  very  fact  of  its 
being  wrong,  the  reason  is  found  why  I  should  not  cher- 
ish but  oppose  it.  Do  you  say  it  is  wrong,  because  it  is 
a  state  of  mind  not  in  conformity  with  my  relations  to 
God  and  his  government  ?  You  say  truly ;  but  then  you 
give  it  a  character  founded  upon  a  reason  which  is  prior 
to  my  judgment  concerning  it,  and  necessarily  prior  to 
any  measures  I  may  take  to  foster  or  oppose  it.  The 
truth  is,  it  is  simply  seen  to  be  wrong,  as  contradicting 
what  my  moral  judgment  pronounces  to  be  fit  and  proper 
in  the  case.  Nor  does  it  make  any  difference  whether 
this  judgment  is  founded  upon  what  is  supposed  to  be 
the  tendency  of  the  wrong  feeling,  as  it  respects  God  or 
his  creatures,  or  whether  it  is  founded  upon  the  intrinsic 


134  ON  THE  WILL- 

baseness  of  the  feeling  itself,  as  standing  opposed  to  what 
I  am  constrained  to  regard  as  moral  rectitude.  I  may  be 
a  utilitarian  in  my  notions  of  virtue,  or  I  may  hold  to  a 
radical  and  essential  distinction  between  virtue  and  vice 
considered  in  themselves,  and  apart  from  their  tenden- 
cies 'y  yet  I  cannot  escape  from  the  strong  and  indubitable 
conviction,  that  certain  moral  feelings  are  so  per  se,  and 
not  because,  by  a  direct  or  indirect  act  of  my  will,  I  can 
modify  or  change  them.  They  are  no  sooner  a  matter 
of  my  consciousness  than  I  approve  or  condemn  them, 
as  conformable  or  not  conformable  to  the  rule  of  duty : 
of  course  I  approve  or  condemn  myself,  as  having  fulfilled 
or  violated  my  obligations.  This  is  the  natural  and  in- 
evitable result  of  my  constitution.  I  go  upon  the  prin- 
ciple that  I  am  a  moral  agent,  or  a  being  under  law.  I 
neither  do  nor  can  question  this  fact.  It  is  made  certain 
to  me  by  my  own  consciousness ;  and  I  could  as  soon 
doubt  of  my  being  as  of  my  moral  responsibility.  This 
is  a  truth  which  I  constantly  assume,  as  often  as  I  judge 
of  my  feelings  or  character.  I  recognize  it  in  every  moral 
distinction  which  I  make.  For  to  perceive  that  this  ought 
to  be,  and  that  that  ought  not  to  be,  is  the  very  same  thing 
as  to  perceive  a  law  of  duty,  and,  so  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned, a  law  which  binds  me.  Ought,  and  ought  not, 
carry  in  them  the  very  notion  of  obligation,  so  that  where 
one  is  perceived  the  other  is  perceived  also.  They  are 
coextensive  with  and  necessarily  involve  each  other. 
They  are,  in  fact,  but  one  and  the  same  thing,  differently 
expressed.  Consequently,  I  no  sooner  perceive  the 
Divine  character,  than  I  perceive  my  obligation  to  love 
and  venerate  it.  Love  and  veneration  are  affections  of 
mind,  which  I  instantly  perceive  to  be  duty,  in  opposi- 
tion to  lukewarmness  and  indifference,  and  especially  to 
hatred  and  contempt ;  or,  which  comes  to  the  same  thing, 
I  perceive  the  moral  difference  between  these  two  states 
of  mind — that  the  one  ought  to  be,  and  that  the  other 


ON    THE    WILL 


135 


ought  not  to  be.     But  why  ?     Why  ought  the  one  to  be, 
rather  than  the  other  ?     The  utilitarian  would  answer, 
Because  it  tends  to  happiness,  my  own  or  another's ;  and 
the  anti-utilitarian,  Because  it  is  in  itself  morally  fit  and 
proper — right  in  its  own  nature,  apart  from,  and  inde- 
pendent of,  its  consequences.     But  my  opponent  can 
assign  no  reason  why  it  ought  to  be,  without  denying  his 
own  consciousness,  and  contradicting  his  own  principles. 
Suppose  he  should  say,  I  ought  to  love  the  Divine  char- 
acter, because  I  see  it  to  be  right;  and  I  see  it  to  be 
right,  because  I  have  the  power  of  bringing  that  character 
before  me  in  its  most  interesting  attitudes.    Does  he  not, 
in  the  very  assertion  that  he  sees  this  to  be  right,  pre- 
suppose such  a  knowledge  of  the  Divine  character  as 
binds  him  to  love  ?     How  else  could  he  see  this  to  be 
right  ?    How  does  he  know  but  that,  upon  a  more  careful 
consideration  of  what  God  is,  he  might  find  just  cause  to 
hate  and  oppose  him  ?     The  very  fact  that  he  sees  it  to 
be  right  to  love,  supposes  that  he  knows  enough  of  the 
character  of  God  already  to  lay  him  under  indispensable 
obligations  to  love ;  and,  of  course,  that  his  obligations 
to  this  duty  are  not  suspended  upon  any  supposed  capa- 
bilities of  turning  his  attention  to  the  Divine  character, 
if  he  shall  choose  so  to  do.     He  sees  it  to  be  right  now, 
and  cannot  help  but  see  it  as  often  as  the  subject  presents 
itself  to  his  mind.     But  his  seeing  it  to  be  right  now,  is 
nothing  different  from  his  perceiving  it  to  be  a  matter  of 
present  obligation ;  and  this  obligation  is  plainly  felt,  if 
felt  at  all,  antecedent  to  the  consideration  of  the  sup- 
posed power  of  bringing  the  character  of  God  before  the 
mind  by  a  deliberate  act  of  the  will.     Every  one  intui- 
tively perceives  (every  one,  I  mean,  to  whom  the  char- 
acter of  God  has  been  made  known)  that  he  is  under 
strong  and   immediate    obligation   to   love   his   Maker, 
without  taking  into  view  his  power  of  calling  up  the 
character  of  God,  and  making  it  the  subject  of  his  steady 


136  °N    THE    WILL. 

contemplation.     This  character  is  no  sooner  seen,  by 
whatever  means,  than  the  obligation  to  love  and  adore  it 
is  felt.     Besides,  what  is  the  power  here  spoken  of — the 
power  to  bring  the  Divine  character,  as  an  object  of  love, 
before  the  mind  ?     It  has  not  been  shown,  nor  can  it  be 
shown,  that  this  power  would  reach  and  awaken  the 
susceptibility  necessary  to  the  actual  exercise  of  love. 
But  waving  this  point  for  the  present,  let  us  suppose  that 
love,  true  love  to  God,  exists.     Was  it  called  into  exist- 
ence by  a  previous  act  of  volition  ?    This  is  not  pretended, 
at  least  by  a  direct  act :  nor  need  it  be  supposed  to  be 
done  by  an  indirect  act ;  for  the  character  of  God  may 
be  exhibited  to  me  without  any  act  of  my  will  at  all — I 
mean,  of  course,  a  determinate  act.     A  man  may  pro- 
nounce in  my  ears,  whether  I  will  or  not,  what  God  is, 
and  what  his  claims  upon  me  are.     Now,  let  us  suppose 
that  my  affections,  in  these   circumstances,  are  drawn 
forth  in  holy  love  to  the  Divine  Being.     Are  these  affec- 
tions virtuous  ?     Conscience   says  they  are,  though  no 
deliberate  act  of  my  will  was  employed  in  bringing  them 
into  being,  or  in  prolonging  their  existence — so  long,  at 
least,   as  the    exhibition  of  the  Divine    character  was 
made  by  the  agency  of  another,  and  independent  of  my 
own  voluntary  effort.     Conscience,  we  have   said,  ap- 
proves these  affections  thus  aw^akened  towards  the  infi- 
nitely blessed   God.      But   upon  what  ground  does  it 
approve  ?    Not  because  the  Divine  character  was  brought 
into  view  by  a  deliberate  act  of  my  will,  making  my  affec- 
tions to  depend  upon  this  act,  and  their  virtue  radically 
to  consist  in  it,  as  my  opponents  contend;  but  simply 
and  solely  because,  in  the  exercise  of  these  affections,  I 
did  my  duty.     Give  us  but  this  plain  position,  and  the 
question  at  issue  is  decided :  you  confess  to  me  that  I 
have  acted  as  a  moral  agent,  and  have  done  my  duty,  in 
merely  exercising  my  moral  affections,  independently 
of  any  deliberate  act  of  my  will.     Moral  agency,  then. 


ON    THE    WILL. 


137 


certainly  may  and  does  exist  anterior  to  deliberate  voli- 
tion. Nor  does  it  appear  that  we  have  overlooked  an 
important  fact  in  the  case,  as  alleged  by  our  opponents, 
in  coming  to  this  conclusion. 

Take  another  view  of  this  subject.     Say  that  there 
is  no  virtue  in  my  affections  of  love  to  God,  unless  I 
resolve  to  cherish  them,  and  so  far  only  as  I  do  thus 
resolve.     I  ask  them,  as  before,  why  should  I  cherish 
them,  if  they  contain  nothing  in  themselves  virtuous  or 
praiseworthy  ?     I  ask  again,  if  they  contain  nothing  in 
themselves  praiseworthy  antecedently  to  my  cherishing 
them,  how  do  they  become  so  afterwards?     Does  my 
purpose  or  resolution  concerning  them  alter  their  nature 
or  character  in  any  degree  ?     Does  it  render  them  more 
pure,  more  disinterested,  or  more  lovely  in  any  respect  ? 
Does  it  alter  their  source,  their  tendency,  or  results  ?  They 
are  pleasing  emotions  in  view  of  the  Divine  character, 
at  first :  what  are  they  different,  or  can  they  be  made  to 
be,  afterwards,  by  any  act  or  purpose  of  mine  ?     It  is 
plain  they  undergo  no  change,  as  to  their  essential  qual- 
ities, by  any  efforts  which  I  make  in  relation  to  them. 
True,  it  may  be  said,  but  I  myself  undergo  a  change ;  I 
become  virtuous,  by  my  voluntary  effort  to  cherish  or 
prolong  these  affections.     It  is  this  approving  and  delib- 
erate act  of  my  will  which  constitutes  all  the  virtue 
there  is  in  the  case.     But  here,  let  it  not  be  forgotten, 
that  if  I  resolve  to  cherish  these  affections,  I  must  have 
some  motive  for  so  doing,  and  what  shall  that  motive  be  ? 
Suppose  it  were  selfish  ?  that  I  determine  to  cherish 
these  affections  simply  as  a  means  of  promoting  my  own 
happiness,  without  the  least  regard  to  the  honor  of  God, 
or  the  welfare  of  his  kingdom,  will  this  render  my  pur- 
pose or  determination  good  and  acceptable  in  the  sight 
of  God,  who  requires  me  to  act  for  his  glory  in  all  things  ? 
Nobody  will  pretend  this.     But  say  I  resolve  to  cherish 
the  supposed  affections,  because  I  regard  them  as  right 


138  ON  THE  WILL. 

and  fit  in  themselves,  and  because  of  their  manifest  ten- 
dency to  reflect  honor  upon  God,  and  to  advance  the 
happiness  of  his  kingdom — objects  ever  dear  to  my  heart  ? 
Then  it  is  plain,  there  is  a  feeling  back  of  the  purpose, 
which  moves  the  purpose,  and  gives  it  all  the  character 
it  has,  unless  you  will  say  that  the  principle  of  action,  or 
the  quo  animo  of  a  deliberate  volition,  has  nothing  to  do 
with  its  character. 

Thus,  in  whatever  light  this  subject  be  viewed,  we 
seem  necessarily,  and  at  once,  to  be  thrown  back  to  this 
common-sense  notion,  that  every  man's  character,  as  a 
moral  being,  is  to  be  judged  of  by  the  state  of  his  heart. 
If  his  feelings  or  affections  be  right,  his  intentions  or 
purposes  will  be  right,  his  words  and  actions  right.  But 
if  his  affections  are  wrong,  all  will  be  wrong,  and  wrong 
to  the  same  extent  that  his  affections  are.  This,  if  we 
mistake  not,  is  the  unbiased  voice  of  mankind  at  large, 
who  never  trouble  themselves  with  the  speculations  of 
philosophers,  but  are  governed  in  all  their  moral  judg- 
ments by  those  radical  principles  of  their  constitution 
which  settle  the  great  question  of  right  and  wrong  ante- 
rior to  all  reasoning  or  speculation  on  the  subject.  They 
no  sooner  discover  what  a  man's  feelings  are,  what  he 
loves,  and  what  he  hates,  than  their  decision  is  formed 
as  to  his  character ;  they  pronounce  him  good  or  bad,  just 
as  they  perceive  his  moral  feelings  to  accord  with,  or  to 
be  repugnant  to,  the  rule  of  duty.  To  this  view  of  the 
subject,  President  Edwards  bears  the  most  ample  testi- 
mony— Part  IV.,  Section  4th. 

"  The  idea  which  the  common  people,  through  all  ages 
and  nations,  have  of  faultiness,  I  suppose  to  be  plainly 
this :  a  person's  being  or  doing  wrong  with  his  own  will 
and  pleasure  ;  containing  these  two  things : 

"(1.)  His  doing  wrong,  when  he  does  as  he  pleases. 

"  (2.)  His  pleasures  being  wrong ;  or,  in  other  words, 
perhaps  more  intelligibly  expressing  their  notion,  a  per- 


ON    THE    WILL. 

son's  having  his  heart  wrong,  and  doing  wrong  from  his 
heart.     And  this  is  the  sum  total  of  the  matter. 

"  The  common  people  do  not  ascend  up,  in  their  reflec- 
tions and  abstractions,  to  the  metaphysical  sources,  rela- 
tions and  dependencies  of  things,  in  order  to  form  their 
notion  of  faultiness  or  blame  worthiness.  They  do  not 
wait  till  they  have  decided,  by  their  refinings,  what  first 
determines  the  will ;  whether  it  be  determined  by  some- 
thing extrinsic  or  intrinsic ;  whether  volition  determines 
volition,  or  whether  the  understanding  determines  the 
will ;  whether  there  be  any  such  thing  as  metaphysicians 
mean  by  contingence  (if  they  have  any  meaning) ;  whe- 
ther there  be  a  sort  of  a  strange,  unaccountable  sove- 
reignty in*  the  will,  in  the  exercise  of  which,  by  its  own 
sovereign  acts,  it  brings  to  pass  all  its  own  sovereign 
acts.  They  do  not  take  any  part  of  their  notion  of  fault 
or  blame  from  the  resolution  of  such  questions."  Were 
this  the  case,  the  author  remarks,  "  that  nine  hundred 
and  ninety-nine  out  of  a  thousand  would  live  and  die, 
without  having  any  such  notion  as  that  of  fault  entering 
into  their  heads;"  and  the  same  remarks,  substantially,  he 
makes  with  respect  to  that  which  is  virtuous  or  praise- 
worthy. The  whole  matter,  according  to  him,  as  it  is 
viewed  by  the  great  mass  of  mankind,  is  that  a  man's 
moral  character  is  to  be  estimated  by  the  state  of  his 
heart.  If  his  heart  be  inclined  to  virtuous  deeds,  they 
regard  him  as  virtuous,  and  the  more  virtuous,  the  more 
strongly  and  steadily  his  heart  is  thus  inclined.  And  so 
in  regard  to  that  which  is  morally  evil ;  the  more  a  man's 
heart  is  inclined  to  it,  and  bent  upon  it,  the  more  crimi- 
nal he  is ;  which  goes  upon  the  principle  that  his  moral 
feelings  give  character  to  his  deliberative  acts  and  all 
the  character  they  have.  [See  Note  A,  at  the  end.] 

There  is  a  single  point  more  to  which  I  wish  to  draw 
your  attention.  By  those  who  dissent  from  the  principles 
of  this  lecture,  it  is  contended  that  man  would  love  the 


140  ON    THE 

right  objects,  and  in  the  right  measure,  did  he  but  dis- 
tinctly and  carefully  consider  them ;  or  that  such  is  the 
constitution  of  the  mind,  that  the  appropriate  affection 
would  arise,  were  the  object  but  clearly  seen  by  the  in- 
tellectual eye ;  or,  as  some  choose  to  express  themselves, 
that  such  are  the  powers  and  susceptibilities  of  every 
moral  agent,  that  he  needs  only  to  have  the  truth  clearly 
presented,  to  feel  towards  it,  and  its  various  objects, 
those  affections  which  the  law  of  God  demands. 

Allow  me  kindly  to  ask  if  this  is  not  a  great  mistake  ? 
With  respect  to  holy  minds,  such  a  statement  may  be 
admitted  as  in  a  high  degree  probable.  It  would  not  be 
strange,  if  every  object  should  strike  them  in  its  true 
light,  as  they  can  have  no  prejudice  against  it ;  nor  if  the 
object  when  seen,  should  awaken  the  correspondent  and 
appropriate  feeling.  But  where  is  the  proof,  or  even  the 
probability  that  such  would  be  the  case  with  respect  to 
unholy  minds  ?  Is  it  not  manifest,  indeed,  that  the  fact 
is  otherwise  ?  How  else  could  it  be  affirmed  of  the 
wicked,  that  "  they  hate  the  light,  and  will  not  come  to 
the  light,  lest  their  deeds  should  be  reproved  ?"  Why 
did  the  world  hate  the  Saviour,  and  why  did  he  predict 
that  they  would  hate  his  followers  ?  "  If  ye  were  of  the 
world,  the  world  would  love  his  own ;  but  because  ye 
are  not  of  the  world,  even  as  I  am  not  of  the  world, 
therefore  the  world  hateth  you."  Will  it  be  said  that 
the  world  hated  Christ  and  his  disciples,  because  they 
misapprehended  their  character,  or  did  not  intellectually 
view  them  aright  ?  Then  it  was  a  false  and  imaginary 
character  which  they  hated — something  which  did  not 
belong  to  Christ  and  his  disciples ;  and  was  it  criminal 
to  hate  such  a  character  ?  Besides,  our  Lord  lays  the 
ground  of  opposition  in  a  totally  different  fact.  "  If  ye 
were  of  the  world,  the  world  would  love  his  own/'  that 
is  to  say,  if  ye  were  like  the  world,  the  world  would  love 
you ;"  but  because  ye  are  not  of  the  world/3  or  like  the 


ON    THE    WILL. 

world,  "  therefore  the  world  hateth  you."  As  if  he  had 
said,  you  possess  a  character  different  from,  and  opposite 
to  theirs,  and  hence  you  may  expect  their  hostility.  But 
why  ?  let  me  ask,  unless  this  different  and  opposite  char- 
acter was  distinctly  discerned  ?  We  cannot  hate  what 
we  do  not  see.  But  Christ  knew  they  would  both  see 
and  hate,  and  that  this  hatred  would  spring  from  an  op- 
position of  moral  character.  The  same  thing  he  asserts, 
when  he  speaks  of  the  opposition  of  the  Jewish  nation 
to  himself.  "  If  I  had  not  come  and  spoken  unto  them, 
they  had  not  had  sin,  but  now  they  have  no  cloke  for 
their  sin.  He  that  hateth  me  hateth  my  Father  also. 
If  I  had  not  done  among  them  the  works,  which  none 
other  man  did,  they  had  not  had  sin,  but  now  they  have 
both  seen  and  hated,  both  me  and  my  Father.  But  this 
cometh  to  pass,  that  the  word  might  be  fulfilled  that  is 
written  in  their  law,  they  hated  me  without  a  cause"  Did 
they  not  then  see  Jesus  Christ,  in  his  true  character,  as 
developed  by  what  he  did  and  what  he  taught  ?  If  not, 
their  hatred  of  him  was  no  proof  of  their  hatred  of  his 
Father ;  for  in  his  true  character  only,  was  there  any 
likeness  to  his  Father,  and  in  this  character  only,  did  he 
represent  his  Father ;  and  besides,  how  could  he  say, 
" they  have  both  seen  and  hated  both  me  and  my  Father" 
if  it  was  not  him  which  they  hated,  but  a  false  and  mis- 
taken apprehension  of  him  ?  speculatively  and  intellectu- 
ally false,  I  mean ;  for  his  transcendent  moral  excellence 
they  did  not  see ;  nor  did  any  see  it,  whose  eyes  were 
not  savingly  enlightened  from  above.  But  this  is  wholly 
a  different  matter.  To  see  the  moral  excellence  of  Christ, 
is  to  see  his  beauty ;  and  to  see  his  beauty  is  nothing 
different  from  exercising  love  to  him.  Beauty  is  an 
emotion,  as  is  admitted  upon  all  hands ;  and  what  we 
call  the  perception  of  it,  is  not  the  mere  exercise  of  the 
intellectual  faculty,  but  is  the  joint  operation  of  the  in- 
tellect and  the  heart.  It  cannot  be  otherwise,  if  the 


142 


ON    THE    WILL. 


perception  of  beauty  involve  emotion.     And  surely  there 
can  be  no  difficulty  in  supposing  that  what  is  pleasing  to 
one,  is  deformed  and  hateful  to  another;  not  because 
their  intellectual  views  are  different,  but  because  their 
tastes,  their  dispositions,  their  hearts  are  different.     This 
is  seen  with  respect  to  a  thousand  objects  in  the  ordinary 
occurrences  of  life  ;  and  it  is  seen  no  less  in  the  things 
of  religion.     The  same  truths  which  awaken  the  most 
delightful  emotions  in  one  mind,  call  forth  the  strongest 
feelings  of  disgust  in  another.     The  mere  intellectual 
perception  may  be  the  same  in  both  cases.     To  a  great 
extent,  it  certainly  cannot  be  otherwise  ;  but  the  feelings 
which  it  occasions  are  as  wide  from  each  other  as  the 
poles.     With  this  plain  fact  before  us,  how  can  it  be 
doubted,  that  the  opposition  of  the  Jews  to  the  Saviour 
was  the  result,  not  so  much  of  any  misunderstanding  of 
his  doctrines  or  his  spirit,  as  of  a  selfish  and  wicked 
heart.     They  are  of  the  world — he  was  not  of  the  world. 
They  were  under  the  reigning  power  of  sin — he  infi- 
nitely holy.     This  contrariety  of  character  laid  a  founda- 
tion for  a  contrariety  of  feeling ;    and  nothing  can  be 
plainer,  than  that  he  constantly  imputes  their  hostility  to 
this  obvious  and  decisive  circumstance.     His  doctrines 
and  his  spirit  offended  them ;  those  very  doctrines  and 
that  very  spirit  which  endeared  him  to  his  followers. 
Hence,  said  he,  "  This  is  the  condemnation  that  light 
has  come  into  the  world,  and  men  loved  darkness  rather 
than  light,  because  their  deeds  were  evil.     Every  one 
that  doeth  evil,  hateth  the  light."     But  what  is  the  light  ? 
what  but  the  truth  of  God,  brought  to  the  w^orld  by  the 
preaching  of  his  Son  ?     It  is  this  which  wicked  men  hate, 
(according  to  the  Saviour's  testimony,)  not  because  they 
do  not  see  it,  for  they  do  see  it,  or  it  could  not  be  an 
object  of  their  hatred ;  but  because  it  stands  opposed  to 
worldliness,  and  requires  a  subjugation  of  their  wicked 
lusts,  on  the  pains  of  eternal  death.     This  is  the  ground, 


ON    THE    WILL. 


143 


and  the  true  ground,  of  their  opposition  to  the  truths  of 
the  Gospel ;  their  hearts  are  alienated  from  the  life  of 
God ;  they  love  neither  his  character,  nor  his  law,  nor 
his  government ;  nor  are  they  any  better  pleased  with 
the  character  of  his  Son,  or  with  the  glorious  system  of 
truth  and  duty  which  he  revealed. 

But,  contrary  to  all  analogy,  it  has  been  conjectured 
that  the  true  reason  of  men's  opposition  to  the  truth  is, 
their  views  are  partial  and  distorted,  or  they  are  transient 
and  unsteady.  Would  they  but  take  a  more  compre- 
hensive view  of  things,  and  especially,  would  they  dwell 
upon  them  with  attention,  they  would  soon  find  in  the 
truth  a  subduing  power,  in  breaking  down  the  opposition 
of  their  hearts  and  transforming  them  into  love. 

I  call  this  conjecture,  because  I  know  of  no  facts  in 
the  wide  range  of  experience  which  can  justify  it ;  and 
fully  am  I  persuaded  that  there  is  nothing  to  authorize 
it  in  the  Bible. 

What  is  the  voice  of  experience  ?     Every  one  knows 
that  we  have  certain  dispositions,  passions  or  affections, 
which  are  excited  or   drawn  forth  by  a  perception  of 
their  corresponding  objects.     When  these  objects  are 
contemplated,  we  expect,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  the 
feelings  to  which  they  are  adapted  will  arise ;  and  that 
these  feelings  will  be  strong  and  permanent,  in  propor- 
tion to  the  clearness  and  steadiness  with  which  their 
several  objects  are  viewed.     The   more  distinctly  and 
exclusively  any  object  is  seen,  the  more  intense,  other 
things  being  equal,  will  the  excited  feelings  be.     This 
is  a  matter  of  universal  experience.     Take  a  covetous 
man,  counting  over  his  wealth,  or  looking  out  with  eagle 
eye  for  a  chance  to  increase  his  fortune.     Whoever  sup- 
posed that  a  partial  view  of  his  darling  object  would 
awaken  and  stimulate  his  ruling  passion,  but  that  an  en- 
tire and  absorbing  view  would  counteract  and  destroy 


144 


ON    THE    WILL. 


it  ?  Or  an  ambitious  man,  whose  aspiring  soul  kindles 
into  ardor  with  every  glance  at  the  object  of  his  pursuit; 
who  expects  that  his  characteristic  feeling  will  subside, 
not  to  say  expire,  when  the  distinction  which  he  pants 
for  comes  fully  into  view,  and  the  prospect  of  success  is 
augmented  ?  In  all  such  cases,  we  never  doubt  that  the 
characteristic  feeling  or  disposition  will  be  called  into 
exercise  whenever  its  object  shall  be  seen,  and  to  the 
same  degree  in  which  it  is  seen ;  and  we  should  no  more 
think  of  eradicating  the  disposition  by  giving  a  glowing 
description  of  its  object,  than  of  pouring  oil  on  the  fire  to 
extinguish  the  flames.  Can  any  reason,  then,  be  given 
why  the  same  thing  should  not  hold  true  with  respect  to 
all  our  moral  feelings,  whether  vicious  or  virtuous,  espe- 
cially where  they  are  known  to  have  a  settled  and  prev- 
alent character  ?  All  admit,  indeed,  that  the  fact  is  so, 
with  respect  to  our  virtuous  affections.  Whatever  ob- 
ject directly  awakens  them,  it  is  believed,  awakens  them 
the  more  the  more  distinctly  it  is  seen,  and  the  more 
attentively  it  is  considered.  Why  should  it  be  other- 
wise with  our  sinful  affections  which  are  equally  charac- 
teristic and  permanent  principles  of  action. 

There  is  no  ground  for  this  supposition,  either  in  our 
experience  or  in  the  reason  and  nature  of  things.  It  is 
as  true  of  them  as  of  every  other  feeling  of  the  mind, 
that  they  are  called  into  exercise  by  the  objects  which 
excite  them,  and  that  they  acquire  a  force  and  intensity, 
usually  in  the  same  proportion  that  the  exciting  objects 
are  spread  out  before  the  mind.  There  is  no  exception 
to  this,  where  the  excited  feeling  is  produced  by  specu- 
latively  seeing  the  object  as  it  is.  Where  it  has  been 
occasioned  in  whole  or  in  part  by  a  speculative  error,  a 
corrected  view  of  the  object  may  either  soften  the  feel- 
ing or  entirely  remove  it.  In  all  other  circumstances,  it 
will  increase  with  every  increased  view  of  its  objective 


ON    THE    WILL. 

cause.  This  we  take  to  be  certain,  if  our  experience 
can  be  relied  upon,  and  all  analogies  in  the  case  do  not 
utterly  fail. 

But  some  may  suppose  that  our  analogies  do  fail,  and 
do  not  represent  the  case  as  it  is.  For  though  the  cov- 
etous man  is  allured  by  the  objects  of  his  covetousness, 
and  the  ambitious  man  by  the  objects  of  his  ambition, 
and  even  the  virtuous  man  by  the  objects  of  his  love ; 
still,  in  all  these  cases  an  object  is  supposed,  which  is 
simply  adapted  to  awaken  the  correspondent  feeling, 
without  anything  to  counteract  it.  But  not  so  with 
respect  to  the  truths  of  religion,  which  occasionally  and 
in  some  aspects  awaken  the  hostility  of  the  sinner.  Here 
many  things  are  addressed  to  his  conscience,  his  reason 
and  his  self-love,  which  he  naturally  approves,  and  which 
are  calculated  to  abate  his  enmity  and  draw  forth  his 
friendship ;  and  even  when  his  hatred  is  felt,  it  is  not  so 
much  towards  the  truth  itself,  or  because  it  is  truth 
abstractly  considered,  as  because  it  crosses  his  path  and 
threatens  him  with  ruin.  What  if  it  be  so  ?  It  affords 
no  escape  from  the  fact  that  there  is  something  in  the 
truths  of  religion,  which  awakens  the  hostility  of  the 
sinner  and  renders  him  the  decided  enemy  of  God.  It 
matters  not  how  much  there  is  of  a  different  character, 
so  long  as  there  is  that  which  is  repugnant  to  the  sinner's 
heart,  and  which  he  never  can  behold  without  the  feel- 
ing of  predominant  dislike.  This  surely  cannot  be  de- 
nied without  denying  the  voice  of  inspiration,  which  de- 
clares "  that  the  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against  God,  not 
subject  to  his  law,  neither  indeed  can  be."  If  this  does  not 
assure  us  that  there  is  a  natural  and  stated  contrariety  be- 
tween the  sinner's  heart  and  the  holy  character  of  God,  it  is 
difficult  to  say  what  could  do  it.  How,  then,  can  this  char- 
acter be  seen  by  the  sinner  without  exciting  his  aversion  ? 
The  just  man,  we  are  told,  is  an  abomination  to  the  un- 
just ;  and  can  it  be  thought  strange  that  a  God  of  infinite 
10 


146  ON  THE  WILL- 

holiness,  with  power  and  disposition  to  punish  the  work- 
ers of  iniquity,  should  be  an  object  of  hatred  to  the 
wicked  ?  We  have  seen  already  that  the  world  hated 
Christ  and  his  disciples — not  because  they  were  deceived 
as  to  their  doctrine  or  spirit,  but  because  they  were  un- 
like them  in  the  temper  of  their  hearts.  And  for  the 
same  reason  is  the  carnal  mind  at  enmity  with  God  and 
his  law.  God  is  holy,  and  his  law  holy ;  but  the  car- 
nal mind  is  sold  under  sin,  and  therefore  opposed  to 
God  and  his  law.  If  it  be  not  so,  why  was  it,  "  That 
when  men  knew  God,  they  glorified  him  not  as  God,  but 
became  vain  in  their  imaginations,  and  their  foolish 
hearts  were  darkened  ?"  Why,  in  every  age,  have  they 
been  disposed  "  to  say  unto  God,  depart  from  us,  for  we 
desire  not  the  knowledge  of  thy  ways  1"  Can  this  be 
accounted  for  on  any  other  supposition  than  that  they 
have  always  found  that,  in  the  true  character  of  God, 
which  was  exceedingly  unwelcome  to  their  hearts,  and 
which  called  forth  their  decided  opposition  ?  Is  it,  then, 
an  unwarrantable  inference,  that  the  more  they  see  of 
the  Divine  character,  while  under  the  dominion  of  sin, 
the  more  their  hearts  will  be  inflamed  against  it  ?  This 
inimical  feeling  is  with  them  a  permanent  characteristic, 
directed  against  the  Divine  character  as  a  whole ;  and  it 
seems  impossible  that  it  should  not  be  excited  in  the 
same  proportion  as  the  exciting  object  comes  clearly 
into  view.  Thousands  of  individuals  in  every  age, 
can  bear  witness  that  such  has  been  their  experience, 
when  under  conviction  by  the  law,  and  antecedent  to 
the  renovation  of  their  hearts.  Was  it  not  so  with 
Edwards  and  Brainerd,  and  most  of  those  the  history  of 
whose  conversion  we  know  ?  But  why  resort  to  the 
testimony  of  men,  since  the  testimony  of  God  is  greater  ? 
Paul,  surely,  did  not  find  his  heart  less  opposed  to  the 
Divine  law,  the  more  clearly  he  saw  the  nature  and 
extent  of  its  demands.  "  I  was  alive,"  saith  he,  "  with- 


ON    THE    WILL. 


147 


out  the  law  once ;  but  when  the  commandment  came, 
sin  revived,  and  I  died."  That  is,  as  I  understand  him, 
while  he  was  comparatively  ignorant  of  the  law,  he  felt 
self-satisfied — full  of  his  own  imaginary  goodness,  and 
full  of  the  expectation  of  life  from  his  own  righteousness. 
But  when  the  commandment  came  with  a  new  and 
Divine  power,  and  he  saw  its  spirituality  and  extent 
reaching  to  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart,  "  sin 
revived,  and  he  died."  "  The  commandment,  which 
was  ordained  to  life,  he  found  to  be  unto  death,"  both  as 
it  discovered  to  him  the  enormity  of  his  guilt,  which 
exposed  him  to  death,  and  as  it  stirred  up  his  wicked 
heart  to  rebel,  and  to  rebel  the  more,  the  more  it  poured 
its  sacred  light  into  his  bosom.  "For  sin,"  says  he, 
"  taking  occasion  by  the  commandment,  wrought  in  me 
all  manner  of  concupiscence,"  it  "  deceived  me,  and  there- 
by slew  me."  Before  the  commandment  came,  sin 
was  dead — comparatively  dead;  but  the  commandment, 
on  coming,  gave  it  power.  Its  latent  principles  awoke 
and  started  into  fresh  and  unwonted  vigor.  Not  that 
the  law  was  in  fault ;  for  "  the  law  is  holy,  and  the  com- 
mandment holy,  just  and  good;  but  sin,  that  it  might  ap- 
pear sin,  working  death  in  me  by  that  which  is  good — 
that  sin  by  the  commandment  might  become  (not  simply 
appear)  exceeding  sinful."  It  is  plain  that  the  Apostle 
is  here  speaking,  not  merely  nor  chiefly  of  the  know- 
ledge of  sin,  which  was  made  manifest  by  the  coming  of 
the  commandment,  but  of  the  power  of  sin  as  a  princi- 
ple of  action — a  principle  which  was  called  into  vigorous 
exercise  by  a  clearer  perception  of  the  spirituality  and 
extent  of  the  Divine  law.  And  hence  he  accounts  for 
this  effect  by  stating  "  that  the  law  is  spiritual,  but  he, 
carnal,  sold  under  sin."  Let  philosophy,  then,  contend  for 
what  she  may,  those  who  bow  to  the  authority  of  the 
Bible  can  be  at  no  loss,  we  should  imagine,  as  to  what 
they  are  to  believe  on  the  point  under  discussion.  This 


148  ON  THE  WILL. 

single  statement  of  the  Apostle's  experience  is,  in  our 
judgment,  no  equivocal  proof  that  mere  light  let  into  the 
understanding,  while  the  heart  is  unsanctified,  is  so  far 
from  awakening  right  affections,  that  it  does  but  irri- 
tate the  carnal  mind,  and  provoke  it  to  more  decided 
enmity. 

We  cannot  yield,  therefore,  to  the  opinion  of  our 
opponents,  that  were  sinners  to  turn  their  attention  to 
the  right  objects,  and  seriously  meditate  upon  them,  the 
appropriate  and  required  affections  would  arise,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  and  agreeably  to  a  law  of  their  con- 
stitution. Such  a  sentiment  appears  to  us  to  be  alike  at 
war  with  experience,  and  with  the  revealed  truth  of 
God.  But  grant,  for  a  moment,  that  it  were  so ;  what 
does  it  avail  towards  showing  that  right  and  wrong,  good 
and  evil,  lie  not  in  the  moral  affections,  but  in  the  delib- 
erate acts  of  the  will  ?  Say  that  sinners  will  not  turn 
their  attention  to  God,  and  Divine  things — and  therefore 
are  not  rightly  affected  towards  them — where  lies  their 
guilt  ?  Not  in  the  deliberate  act  of  refusing  to  attend — 
apart  from  the  feelings  which  led  to  the  refusal — but  in 
the  state  of  their  moral  affections — in  the  obliquity  of 
their  hearts.  They  do  not  love  God,  and  therefore  do 
not  desire  the  knowledge  of  his  ways.  They  give  a 
preference  to  other  objects.  This  is  the  core  of  the 
difficulty,  and  the  essence  of  their  guilt — as  every  man's 
conscience  instinctively  testifies.  So  it  must  be,  if  the 
motive  crown  the  action,  and  if  actions  derive  their 
qualities  from  principles. 

We  come  back,  therefore,  to  the  same  conclusion  as 
before,  that  strictly  speaking  both  virtue  and  vice  are 
found  in  the  heart — that  is,  in  those  dispositions,  choices 
and  feelings  which  lie  at  the  bottom  of  every  delib- 
erate act  of  the  will.  We  call  the  deliberate  act 
virtuous  or  vicious,  as  the  case  may  be — and  so  we  do 
the  external  action  which  proceeds  from  it — but  we  al- 


ON    THE    WILL. 


ways  have  reference  to  the  motive  or  principle  which  gave 
birth  to  the  act,  and  which  occasioned  it  to  be  as  it  is, 
and  not  otherwise.  Show  us  the  motive  or  feeling  which 
has  influenced  or  governed  the  mind,  in  any  particular 
case,  and  we  can  show  you  the  character  of  the  act,  or, 
to  speak  more  correctly,  the  character  of  the  actor,  for  in 
this  very  motive  or  feeling  his  blame  or  praise  worthiness 
lies.  Nor  need  this  view  of  the  subject  create  any  diffi- 
culty on  the  score  of  moral  agency  and  accountability. 
Our  affections  are  as  much  our  exercises,  and  the  exer- 
cises of  our  will,  as  our  deliberate  choices  or  volitions, 
and  altogether  as  much  the  immediate  and  proper  sub- 
ject of  command.  Nay,  a  regard  to  them  is  had  in  every 
command  which  God  gives,  while  his  law  is  summed  up 
in  two  great  precepts,  immediately  addressed  to  our 
hearts.  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God,  with  all  thy 
heart,  soul,  mind  and  strength,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thy- 
self." Such  is  the  frame  and  constitution  of  our  minds, 
that  we  immediately  recognize  the  fitness  of  this  com- 
mand the  moment  we  perceive  its  import.  We  stop  not 
to  inquire  whether  there  be  any  process,  and  if  so,  what 
it  is,  which  is  necessary  to  bring  into  exercise  the  re- 
quired affections.  We  perceive  at  once  that  we  ought 
to  have  them,  and  to  have  them  without  delay  ;  and  con- 
science condemns  us  for  the  slightest  failure.  The  ope- 
rations of  our  minds  upon  this  subject  are  exceedingly 
simple  ;  we  no  sooner  know  what  the  demand  of  the  law 
is,  than  we  feel  ourselves  instantly  bound  to  obey,  and 
guilty  if  we  do  not  obey.  "  He  that  knoweth  to  do  good, 
and  doth  it  not,  to  him  it  is  sin,"  says  the  Apostle.  But  to 
love  God,  and  our  neighbor  is,  doubtless,  one  of  the  forms 
of  doing  good,  that  is,  of  doing  right,  as  the  expression 
may  be  understood.  And  no  other  facts  or  circumstances 
need  to  be  known,  than  that  thus  to  love  is  our  duty,  to 
bring  us  under  immediate  obligation  to  obey.  So  we 
reason  and  judge  on  every  other  subject  of  obligation. 


150 


ON    THE    WILL. 


Were  we  to  see  a  man  who  felt  no  interest  in  the  wel- 
fare of  his  country,  but  was  willing  to  sacrifice  its  hap- 
piness to  the  objects  of  his  private  ambition,  we  should 
instantly  condemn  him  for  this  state  of  mind.  Could  he 
see  nothing  to  attract  him  in  the  virtuous  deeds  and 
sacrifices  of  a  Washington,  we  should  cry  out  upon  him 
as  a  wretch.  Because  we  feel  that  he  ought  to  love  and 
venerate  the  father  of  his  country,  and  with  a  warmth 
and  sincerity  correspondent  to  his  dignity  and  worth. 
Not  to  do  this  would,  in  our  estimation,  be  infamy.  In 
all  such  cases  we  connect  the  obligation  with  the  simple 
fact  of  knowing  what  is  justly  expected  and  required. 

But  some  may  be  ready  to  ask,  how  can  I  be  respon- 
sible for  my  affections,  unless  I  can  control  them,  directly 
or  indirectly,  by  some  previous  act  of  my  will  ?  and  I  ask 
in  return,  how  can  I  be  responsible  for  such  previous  act 
of  my  will,  unless  I  can  control  that,  by  some  other  pre- 
vious act  ?  Will  it  be  said  that  I  chose  to  have  that  act 
of  my  will  as  it  was,  and  not  otherwise,  and  therefore  I 
am  responsible  for  it  ?  Then  I  chose  to  choose  it  seems — 
and  this  renders  my  choosing  blame,  or  praise  worthy. 
But  nobody,  at  this  day,  will  resort  to  such  an  absurdity. 
The  truth  is,  that  in  every  exercise  of  the  will,  the  agent 
acts  freely ;  and  his  act  is  to  be  judged  of  by  its  own 
nature.  If  it  be  a  deliberate  act,  we  decide  upon  its 
character,  so  far  as  it  has  any,  by  the  principle  or  motive 
which  governed  it.  If  it  be  an  immanent  act,  it  is,  never- 
theless, a  free  act,  arising  spontaneously  in  view  of  its 
object ;  and  if  it  be  of  a  moral  character,  this  character  is 
to  be  determined  by  comparing  it  with  the  law  of  duty. 
If  it  be  such  as  the  law  requires,  it  is  good  and  praise- 
worthy ;  and  if  it  be  otherwise,  it  is  evil.  It  is  simply 
the  nature  of  the  exercise,  which  we  look  at;  and  this 
we  judge  of,  by  the  exercise  being  conformed,  or  not 
conformed,  to  the  law ;  nor  does  it  make  any  difference, 
whether  the  law  be  that  which  is  written  upon  the 


ON    THE    WILL. 


151 


heart,  by  the  light  of  nature,  or  whether  it  be  revealed. 
The  moment  we  perceive  a  law,  which  we  recognize 
as  a  law  of  duty,  we  perceive  ourselves  to  be  bound  by 
it  (for  these  perceptions  properly  involve  each  other): 
of  course  we  cannot  fail  to  approve  or  condemn  our- 
selves, as  we  yield,  or  do  not  yield,  to  the  demands  of 
the  law.  This  is  the  natural  result  of  our  constitution ; 
and  to  use  President  Edward's  language,  "  is  the  sum 
total  of  the  matter."  We  never  go  about  to  inquire 
what  is  the  cause  of  our  moral  affections  being  as  they 
are,  or  whether  they  have  any  cause,  aside  from  our  own 
powers  and  susceptibilities,  and  the  objects  which  act 
upon  them.  We  know  that  these  affections  are  our 
exercises,  and  not  another's — the  development  of  our 
own  powers.  In  other  w^ords,  we  perceive  that  it  is  we 
ourselves,  that  love  or  hate,  hope  or  fear,  as  the  case  may 
be,  and  that  these  exercises  are  morally  good,  or  morally 
evil,  as  they  correspond  with,  or  violate  the  Divine  law. 
This  is  all  we  perceive,  or  are  conscious  of,  and  if  we 
suppose  something  farther,  we  do  but  deceive  ourselves, 
by  traveling  into  the  region  of  imagination  or  conjecture. 
But  I  hear  it  asked,  do  not  men  naturally  suppose, 
when  they  have  had  wrong  feelings  or  emotions,  that 
they  might  have  had  other,  and  different  feelings,  if  they 
had  been  so  disposed,  or  if  they  had  pleased  ?  and  is  it 
not  upon  this  ground  that  they  condemn  themselves  for 
the  feelings  which  they  had  ?  That  men  sometimes  have 
confused  thoughts  upon  this  subject,  there  is  no  doubt ; 
but  that  they  have  had  such  thoughts  as  the  inquirer 
supposes,  we  can  by  no  means  concede — unless  they 
greatly  mistake  the  facts  in  the  case.  There  is  an  ab- 
surdity on  the  very  face  of  the  supposition,  that  they 
might  have  had  different  feelings  or  emotions,  if  they 
had  been  so  disposed,  for  what  is  it  to  be  so  disposed,  but 
to  have  these  other  and  different  feelings  themselves  ? 


152  ON  THE  WILL- 

which  is  as  much  as  to  say  that  they  might  have  had 
different  feelings,  if  they  had  had  different  feelings.  Nor 
does  the  supposition  that  they  might  have  had  different 
feelings  if  they  had  pleased,  afford  a  sense,  less  fraught 
with  error  or  absurdity.  It  implies  that  they  might  have 
had  other  feelings  and  emotions,  if  they  had  desired,  or 
chosen  them.  But  feelings  or  emotions  never  arise  in 
consequence  of  being  desired  or  chosen,  but  spontane- 
ously, in  view  of  their  appropriate  objects ;  and  besides, 
if  they  were  desired  or  chosen,  they  were  desired  or 
chosen  for  some  end  ;  and  what  is  that  end  ?  If  you  say 
it  was  their  own  agreeableness  or  pleasingness  to  the 
mind — then  they  were  possessed  already,  and  did  not 
arise  in  consequence  of  being  chosen.  If  you  say  it  was 
for  some  other  end,  the  choice  would  be  unavailing,  as 
it  neither  involves  them  nor  produces  them.  Produce 
them,  it  cannot,  according  to  any  law  of  mind  known  or 
admitted  by  any  respectable  writer  on  this  subject.  The 
simple  matter  is,  when  men  have  wrong  feelings,  and 
they  are  conscious  of  the  wrong,  they  judge  of  it  by  the 
nature  of  these  feelings  as  compared  with  the  rule  of 
duty.  Come  how  they  will,  come  whence  they  will, 
they  intuitively  perceive  them  to  be  wrong — wrong  in 
themselves  apart  from  the  circumstances  which  preceded 
or  attended  them.  True  it  is,  other  things  may  be  per- 
ceived at  the  same  time.  We  may  perceive  that  one 
wrong  feeling  has  indirectly  contributed  to  another,  or 
that  the  absence  of  right  feelings  has  been  the  occasion 
of  wrong  ones ;  still  it  is  manifest  that  both  the  right  and 
the  wrong  can  be  measured  and  determined  only  by  the 
acknowledged  rule  of  duty.  The  feeling  must  be  com- 
pared with  the  rule  ;  and  this  done,  all  is  done  which  is 
necessary  to  show  its  agreement,  or  disagreement,  with 
the  rule,  and  to  fix  in  the  mind  an  unwavering  convic- 
tion of  its  good  or  ill  desert.  The  perception  of  the  rule 


ON    THE    WILL 


153 


is  a  perception  of  obligation ;  and  the  perception  of 
conformity,  or  non-conformity,  is  a  perception  of  having 
done  good  or  evil. 

[NOTE  A.]  But  some  may  suppose  that  this  writer  makes  moral  evil  to  consist 
in  two  things,  and  not  in  one  ;  namely,  in  a  man's  doing  wrong,  when  he  does  as 
he  pleases,  and  his  pleasure's  being  wrong;  or,  in  other  words,  in  having  his  heart 
wrong,  and  doing  wrong  from  his  heart :  and  by  the  same  rule,  that  virtue  must 
consist  in  two  things — in  a  man's  having  his  heart  right,  and  doing  right  from  his 
heart  He  admits,  indeed,  that  such  are  the  common  notions  of  mankind,  who  do 
not  always  carefully  separate  their  conceptions  on  this  subject.  There  are  certain 
actions,  overt  actions,  which  they  esteem  right  or  wrong,  but  not  as  separate  from 
the  deliberate  choice  of  the  mind  from  which  they  proceeded.  These  actions  must 
be  voluntary  in  their  judgment,  or  they  would  be  neither  blame  nor  praiseworthy: 
of  course,  their  moral  character,  so  far  as  they  have  any,  must  be  derived 
from  the  fact  .that  they  were  deliberately  chosen  ;  and  when  they  come  to  inquire 
into  the  character  of  this  choice,  which  they  pronounce  either  good  or  bad,  they 
take  into  view  the  principle  or  motive  from  which  it  originates.  It  is  a  good 
choice,  or  a  bad  choice,  as  it  was  moved  or  excited  by  a  good  or  bad  feeling.  This 
alone  marks  its  intent  or  design ;  and  on  this  the  mind  fixes  as  that  which  is  es- 
sential to  its  moral  character.  If  the  intent  be  good,  the  choice  was  good ;  if  the 
intent  be  evil,  the  choice  was  evil.  And  though  the  vulgar  do  not  ordinarily 
separate  their  conceptions  in  this  manner,  yet  they  show,  by  their  language,  in 
a  thousand  forms,  that  they  have  such  conceptions ;  and  that  they  trace  all  moral 
good  or  evil  up  to  the  heart,  or  the  state  of  the  affections;  and  that,  in  their 
judgment,  there  is  neither  virtue  nor  vice  apart  from  these.  That  this  was  the 
sentiment  of  Edwards  himself,  there  can  be  no  doubt,  since  he  repeatedly  inti- 
mates that  it  is  the  disposition  of  the  man  which  gives  character  to  the  man  ;  and 
since  it  is  one  of  his  cardinal  points,  "  that  principles  do  not  derive  their  goodness 
from  actions,  but  actions  from  principles,"  while  he  expressly  declares  that  a  good 
choice  is  no  farther  good  than  the  disposition  from  which  it  flows. 


LECTURE    IV. 


ON    CREATION. 


IN  our  examination  of  the  Divine  decrees,  we  have  seen 
that  they  are  necessarily  universal,  reaching  alike  to  all 
beings  and  events,  and  through  all  time;  that  in  the 
order  of  nature,  they  precede  whatsoever  comes  to  pass 
through  the  agency  of  God,  whether  that  agency  be 
exerted  either  more  immediately  or  remotely.  The  works 
of  God  are,  of  course,  the  development  of  his  decrees, 
and  may  be  comprehended  under  two  grand  divisions — 
the  works  of  creation,  and  the  works  of  providence. 
Nothing  which  God  does,  or  in  any  way  causes  to  be 
done,  but  may  be  included  under  one  or  the  other 
of  these  divisions. 

As  to  the  work  of  creation,  it  has  been  denned,  "  God's 
making  all  things  of  nothing,  by  the  word  of  his  power, 
in  the  space  of  six  days,  and  all  very  good."  No  objec- 
tion can  be  taken  to  this  definition,  if  it  is  intended  to 
comprehend  the  whole  of  God's  work,  in  giving  birth  to 
materials,  as  well  as  in  giving  form,  for  it  is  manifest 
that  animals  and  vegetables  were  created  from  matter 
already  in  existence. 

The  original  word  K-O  to  create,  as  well  as  its  kindred 
forms,  is  used  with  considerable  latitude  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, as  may  be  seen  by  referring  to  Lexicographers. 


ON    CREATION. 


155 


According  to  Parkhurst,  this  word  denotes  the  produc- 
tion of  either  substance  or  form — the  creation,  or  accretion 
of  substance  or  matter. 

(1.)  He  gives  it  the  sense  of  creating,  or  producing 
into  being,  Genesis,  i.  1,  where  it  is  said,  "  In  the  begin- 
ning, God  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth."  This 
cannot  relate  to  form,  he  remarks,  because  it  follows  in 
the  next  verse,  that  the  earth  was  without  form,  or  in  loose 
atoms.  He  assigns  to  it  the  same  meaning  in  the  twenty- 
seventh  verse,  where  man  is  said  to  be  made  in  the 
image  of  God,  because  this  had  respect  to  the  spiritual 
and  immortal  part  of  man. 

(2.)  He  gives  it  the  sense  of  forming  by  an  accretion 
or  concretion  of  matter,  Genesis,  i.  21,  where  God  is 
said  to  create  the  monsters  of  the  deep. 

(3.)  A  third  sense  which  he  ascribes  to  it,  is  to  perform 
somewhat  that  is  wonderful,  or  extraordinary — to  make, 
as  it  were,  a  new  creation ;  Numbers,  xvi.  30  :  "  But  if 
God  create  a  creation  " — that  is,  "  if  he  shall  work  an 
unprecedented  miracle."  *  *  *  See  also,  Exodus, 
xxxiv.  10,  and  Jeremiah,  xxxi.  22. 

(4.)  He  gives  this  word  the  sense,  also,  of  renewing,  or 
making  anew ;  of  preparing  and  adorning,  which  shows 
that  the  sacred  writers  have  used  it  with  considerable 
variety  of  meaning. 

Gesenius  gives  much  the  same  account  as  to  the  import 
of  this  word.  Its  first  sense,  he  remarks,  is  to  hew,  or 
hew  out ;  and  that  in  some  of  its  forms,  it  is  used  to 
signify  being  born.  He  allows  it  the  sense  of  smooth,  and 
to  make  smooth,  but  more  commonly  to  form,  or  to  make, 
though  he  says  nothing  as  to  the  mode  of  forming, 
whether  with,  or  without,  pre-existing  materials. 

Pictet  has  endeavored  to  show  that  there  are  only 
two  senses  in  which  the  word  create  can  be  understood 
strictly  and  properly;  the  one,  when  it  describes  that 
work  of  God  by  which  he  drew  something  from  nothing, 


156  ON    CREATION. 

and  the  other,  when  it  marks  that  operation  by  which  God 
makes  a  thing  different  from  what  it  was  before — and 
where  there  was  no  previous  disposition  to  the  change. 

It  is  a  marvelous  thing,  he  remarks,  that  a  small  nut 
should  produce  a  great  tree — nevertheless,  because  the 
nut  contains  the  semen  or  germ  of  the  tree,  we  do  not 
call  this  a  creation,  but  a  generation.  But  to  make  a 
living  man  from  a  dead  stone,  would  be  a  creation.  It  is  a 
thing  which  surpasses  the  powers  of  nature,  and  there  is 
none  but  God,  who  could,  of  stones,  raise  up  children  to 
Abraham.  In  the  last  sense,  he  supposes  it  is  said  that 
God  created  man  of  the  dust  of  the  earth,  and  that  he 
formed  Eve  from  one  of  Adam's  ribs.  For  neither  the  dust 
nor  the  rib  was  naturally  capable  of  receiving  the  form 
which  God  subsequently  gave.  There  was  here  no  germ, 
no  previous  disposition  to  the  change  which  was  produced ; 
no  such  preparation  as  nature  demands  in  her  subjects, 
when  she  would  exhibit  them  in  a  new  form.  Whence 
it  would  appear,  that  no  less  power  is  required  in  this 
second  kind  of  creation,  than  in  the  first ;  and  that  both 
demand  a  power  which  is  infinite/' 

Such  works  we  cheerfully  concede,  are  properly  de- 
nominated a  creation,  and  clearly  indicate  a  power  no 
less  than  infinite.  But  we  see  no  reason  for  limiting 
the  word  create,  or  creation,  to  such  extraordinary  opera- 
tions. Most  certainly,  neither  in  the  Scriptures,  nor  in 
the  customary  forms  of  speech,  is  the  term  thus  limited. 
Not  unfrequently  is  it  used  by  the  sacred  writers  to 
express  God's  works  of  providence,  where  no  extraor- 
dinary change  is  produced,  but  only  such  modification, 
or  disposition  of  things,  as  occur  in  a  regular  train  of  his 
operations.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  not;  to  be  doubted, 
that  it  is  sometimes  used  to  signify  the  production  of 
something  out  of  nothing,  or  giving  existence  where 
previously  there  was  none.  It  has  this  meaning,  most 
obviously,  when  Moses  says,  "In  the  beginning  God 


ON    CREATION. 


157 


created  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  the  earth  was 
without  form,  and  void."  (Genesis,  i.  1.)  Here  we  are 
directed  not  only  to  the  cause,  but  to  the  beginning  of 
things  ;  not  to  that  state  which  they  afterwards  assumed 
under  the  forming  hand  of  their  Creator,  when  the  work 
was  complete,  but  to  the  bringing  into  existence  the  first 
principles  of  things — the  materials,  so  to  speak,  of  which 
the  several  forms  of  organized  being  were  fashioned  by 
the  Almighty. 

Other  passages  of  Scripture  point  us  to  the  same  fact, 
no  less  obviously,  though  not  perhaps  with  the  same 
clearness  and  precision.  When  St.  John  says,  "  In  the 
beginning  was  the  word,  or  the  Xoyo^ ;  the  word  was 
with  God,  and  the  word  was  God.  All  things  were 
made  by  him,  and  without  him  was  not  anything  made 
that  was  made,"  he  plainly  carries  us  up  to  the  same 
high  original  of  created  existence,  as  Moses  had  done 
before  him.  The  Xoyos  who  was  in  the  beginning  with 
God,  is  spoken  of  as  the  immediate  and  efficient  cause  of 
all  things  that  were  made,  or  began  to  be.  Paul,  also, 
in  distinctly  ascribing  to  Christ  the  creation  of  all  things 
in  heaven  and  earth,  whether  they  be  visible,  or  invisi- 
ble, clearly  indicates  a  production  from  nothing.  He 
declares,  moreover,  "  that  Christ  was  before  all  things, 
and  that  by  him  all  things  consist." 

To  understand  this  passage  with  reference  to  the  mere 
organization  of  things,  would  not  only  be  an  unreasonable 
limitation  of  the  Apostle's  meaning,  but  would  suppose  a 
sense  which  could  have  no  application  to  the  invisible 
part  of  Christ's  workmanship,  to  wit,  his  creation  of 
angels,  as  is  commonly  understood  by  thrones,  dominions, 
principalities  and  powers.  Besides,  how  could  Christ 
be  before  all  things,  if  some  things  existed  antecedent  to 
his  creative  act,  and  existed  as  the  materials  upon  which 
his  power  was  exerted  ? 

That  the  Apostle  intended  to  speak  of  a  creation  from 


158  ON    CREATION, 

non-entity  is  the  more  probable,  from  the  language  which 
he  holds  upon  this  subject  in  the  llth  of  Hebrews. 
"  Through  faith/'  says  he,  "  we  understand  that  the 
worlds  were  framed  by  the  word  of  God  :  so  that 
things  which  are  seen,  were  not  made  of  things  which 
do  appear."  What  then  were  they  made  of  ?  (it  might 
naturally  be  demanded.)  Not  of  pre-existent  matter : 
for  that  belongs  to  things  which  do  appear.  His  lan- 
guage naturally  imports  that  visible  things  were  not  made 
of  visible  things,  or  material  things  of  things  which  are 
material ;  but  arose  into  existence  at  the  sovereign  com- 
mand of  God,  and  arose  out  of  nothing.  The  Word  of 
God  is  given  as  the  only  source  of  the  mighty  fabric  of 
the  universe.  In  this,  the  Apostle  evidently  opposed 
himself  to  the  philosophers  of  that  period,  who  held 
either  that  the  world  was  eternal,  or  was  formed  out  of 
materials  which  had  no  beginning ;  and  his  opposition 
consists  not  only  in  stating  the  fact  to  be  different  from 
what  they  had  supposed — but  the  way  in  which  we 
come  to  the  knowledge  of  that  fact.  "  By  faith,"  saith 
he,  "  we  understand  that  the  worlds  were  made  by  the 
word  of  God."  Reason  might  trace  the  operation  of  the 
Divine  hand  in  the  visible  frame  of  the  universe  ;  but 
reason  alone  would  never  rise  to  the  sublime  notion  that 
God  spake  the  universe  into  existence  from  nothing. 
This  is  too  mighty  an  idea  for  the  human  mind  to  excogi- 
tate, by  its  own  unassisted  powers.  Even  now  that  the 
fact  is  revealed,  there  is  nothing  which  more  astonishes 
us,  or  baffles  our  conceptions,  the  moment  we  attempt  to 
meditate  upon  it.  That  something  should  be  produced 
from  nothing — that  the  universe  of  creatures,  whether 
they  be  visible  or  invisible,  should  rise  up  at  the  call  of 
the  Almighty,  and  stand  forth  in  all  their  majesty  and 
glory,  is  not  only  the  miracle  of  miracles,  but  the  greatest 
of  all  mysteries.  Still,  this  is  no  reason  why  we  should 
doubt  the  fact.  The  Bible  asserts  it,  and  reason  legiti- 


ON    CREATION. 


159 


mately  exercised,  coincides  with  the  Bible.  As  to  the 
modus  operandi,  it  plainly  lies  beyond  the  reach  of  our 
faculties ;  but  this  is  true,  also,  with  respect  to  causation 
universally  :  we  see  the  changes  that  are  produced,  and 
the  order  in  which  they  occur ;  but  we  know  not  how 
they  are  produced.  A  total  darkness  here  rests  upon  all 
the  works  of  God.  In  the  fact  of  creation,  we  are  apt 
to  stumble  at  the  thought,  that  it  should  arise  out  of 
nothing ;  and  yet,  from  the  necessity  of  the  case,  we 
know  not  how  it  could  be  otherwise.  What  materials 
were  there,  out  of  which  to  form  the  universe,  till  the 
Almighty  had  created  them  to  his  hand  ?  Matter,  surely, 
could  not  be  eternal,  unless  we  allow  it  a  necessary 
existence,  contrary  to  all  just  reasoning  from  its  known 
qualities  and  attributes.  And  as  to  the  spirit,  though 
eternal,  as  it  exists  in  the  Deity,  yet  since  it  would  be 
absurd  to  suppose  that  his  all-perfect  Being  is  capable  of 
division,  multiplication  or  change,  we  are  left  to  con- 
clude that^other  spirits,  if  they  exist,  must  exist  by  cre- 
ation, no  less  than  matter,  and  by  creation,  as  absolutely 
from  nothing.  To  suppose  otherwise,  would  be  to  sup- 
pose some  change  in  the  substance  of  the  Deity,  or  at 
least,  a  division  of  that  substance,  since  out  of  it,  accord- 
ing to  this  hypothesis,  other  spirits  were  formed. 

Allowing  then,  that  God  has  created  something  out  of 
nothing,  still  it  is  important  to  inquire  what  that  some- 
thing is.  We  are  in  the  habit  of  considering  it  as  being 
or  substance,  and  either  matter  or  mind.  But  what  evi- 
dence of  this  ?  May  it  not  be  some  property  or  attribute, 
or  merely  an  assemblage  of  these  ?  It  is  plain  it  must 
be  something  distinct  from  God,  or  it  could  not  be  any- 
thing created,  unless  creation  consists  in  a  mere  modifi- 
cation of  Deity.  Hence  philosophers  and  divines  who 
have  admitted  a  creation  at  all — I  mean  a  creation  from 
nothing — have,  with  one  voice,  allowed  it  to  be  some- 
thing ad  extra  in  relation  to  God ;  something  without  or 


ON    CREATION. 

aside  from  him ;  not  in  its  origin,  but  in  its  result ;  some- 
thing which  is  not  God,  neither  his  substance,  nor  his 
attributes,  nor  an  exercise  of  these;  but  the  fruit  or  effect 
of  his  creative  energy. 

But  if  that  which  is  created  be  something  distinct  from 
God,  it  cannot  be  a  mere  property  or  attribute,  unless  we 
can  suppose  a  property  without  a  subject,  or  an  attribute 
which  is  the  attribute  of  nothing.  Nor  can  it  be  a  mere 
assemblage  of  attributes  or  properties  ;  for  the  absurdity 
of  a  property  without  a  subject,  or  an  attribute  without 
a  substance  to  which  it  belongs,  is  in  no  degree  lessened 
by  supposing  an  assemblage  of  these,  or  many  instead 
of  one. 

We  are  aware,  indeed,  that  a  few  modern  philosophers 
have  adopted  a  different  sentiment,  and  have  defined 
matter  to  be  nothing  but  an  assemblage  of  properties  or 
qualities,  and  mind  only  a  union  of  perceptions,  or  a 
series  of  exercises,  which  has  neither  principle  nor  found- 
ation, except  the  immediate  agency  of  God.     In  short, 
that  neither  matter  nor  mind  is  anything  distinct  from  its 
properties  ;  and  that  these  are  nothing  but  God's  action  ; 
and  hence,  all  the  known  properties  of  bodies,  if  not  of 
mind,  are  regarded  as  the  steady  laws  of  Divine  opera- 
tion.    We  cannot  think  that  such  a  doctrine  will  ever 
become  universal,  as  it  seems  to  stand  opposed  to  some 
of  the  radical  principles  of  our  constitution.     Men  will 
not  soon  be  reasoned  out  of  a  conviction  of  their  personal 
identity,  nor  out  of  their  belief  in  an  external  world.     We 
take  it  to  be  a  principle  as  certain  as  any  of  the  axioms 
on  which  our  reasonings  are  grounded,  that  every  property 
lias  a  subject  to  which  it  belongs  ;  and  that  we  can  no  more 
avoid  this  reference  in  our  thoughts,  however  ignorant 
we  may  be  of  the  nature  of  the  subject,  than  we  can 
avoid  the  conclusion,  that  every  act  implies  an  agent, 
whose  act  it  is,  and  every  feeling  and  perception,  some 
being  who  feels  and  perceives.     This  is  surely  the  natural 


ON    CREATION. 

train  of  our  thoughts,  if  it  be  not  one  of  their  unchange- 
able laws ;  and  under  its  influence  it  is,  that  Christian 
philosophers  and  divines,  of  every  age,  have,  with  few 
exceptions,  adopted  the  opinion,  that  creation  is  a  work, 
or  something  done,  and  not  a  mere  energy;  and  that  that 
which  is  created  is  properly  a  being  or  substance,  and 
is  either  matter  or  mind.  This  is  the  view  which 
Paul  appeared  to  take  of  the  subject,  when  he  said, 
"  Every  house  is  builded  by  some  man,  but  he  that  built 
all  things  is  God."  He  speaks  of  some  things  being  done, 
not  merely  as  a  change  or  an  event  which  should  leave 
no  trace  of  its  existence  behind,  but  as  a  work  which 
stands  forth  as  the  mighty  monument  of  the  power  which 
accomplished  it. 

Such,  as  it  appears  to  us,  is  the  plain,  common-sense 
notion  of  the  case,  as  the  principles  of  all  languages 
testify,  and  as  the  Word  of  God  abundantly  confirms. 
"  God  spake,  and  it  was  done  ;  he  commanded,  and  it 
stood  fast."  But  what  stood  fast  ?  unless  it  were  the  work 
of  his  own  hands,  something  which  had  a  positive  and 
continued  existence  ?  He  made  heaven,  earth,  air,  sea, 
and  all  that  is  therein,  everything  after  its  kind,  and  every 
living  thing  with  power  to  propagate  its  kind ;  and  the 
language  employed  in  this  statement,  can  obviously  con- 
vey to  the  common  mind  no  other  idea,  than  that  these 
were  so  many  separate  existences,  brought  into  being  by 
the  Almighty,  with  their  varied  attributes,  qualities  and 
powers.  But  philosophers  are  not  to  be  taken  by  the 
snare  which  catches  the  vulgar.  They  have  a  much 
deeper  insight  into  things.  The  Word  of  God  was  not 
designed  to  instruct  in  the  principles  of  a  deep  and  recon- 
dite philosophy ;  but  with  higher  and  more  spiritual 
views,  accommodates  its  statements  to  the  notions  and 
apprehensions  of  the  unlettered  multitude.  Though  it 
speak,  therefore,  of  God,  men,  angels,  devils,  things  visible 
and  things  invisible,  as  having  a  distinct  and  positive  ex- 
11 


ON    CREATION. 


162 

istence,  accompanied  with  various  qualities  and  attributes, 
it  is  no  argument  that  there  is  in  reality  any  such  exist- 
ence, separate  from  attributes,  properties,  qualities  and 
powers.  These,  after  all,  may  be  the  sum  of  created 
being,  if  not  the  sum  of  uncreated  being. 

Let  us  resort,  then,  to  principles  independent  of  the 
Bible,  and  try  the  question  on  the  ground  of  human  rea- 
son. And  here  the  first  inquiry  is,  whether  every  man, 
be  he  philosopher  or  otherwise,  does  not  go  upon  the 
principle,  that  he  has  a  distinct  individual  existence;  or 
that  he  is  a  person  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  term,  pos- 
sessed of  certain  attributes  and  powers  ?  and  not  that  he 
is  a  series  of  acts,  or  an  assemblage  of  attributes  ?  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  if  he  will  allow  himself  to  answer,  all 
prejudice  and  system  apart,  that  he  will  frankly  confess 
that  he  cannot  persuade  himself  that  he  is  not  himself,  al- 
though this  self  appears  to  be  a  strange  indefinable 
thing.  In  other  wTords,  that  he  is  conscious  of  a  distinct 
personality,  or,  if  you  like  the  phrase  better,  that  he 
believes  himself  to  be  a  person,  having  the  realities  and  pro- 
perties  of  being,  altogether  as  truly,  though  not  as  inde- 
pendently, as  God  who  created  him.  This  person  he 
always  denotes  by  the  term  I — a  person  sufficiently  dear 
to  him,  and  whose  opinions  and  interests  he  is  never 
backward  to  cherish.  And  as  he  thus  firmly  believed 
in  his  own  identity — so  he  has  substantially  the  ;same 
belief  concerning  his  fellow-men.  Hence  he  constantly 
speaks  of  them,  whatever  may  be  his  philosophy,  as 
having  a  real,  positive  existence,  to  which  he  attributes 
involuntarily  certain  properties  and  powers.  He  can  no 
more  divest  himself  of  the  idea  that  they  are  persons, 
or  beings,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  terms,  and  not  mere 
qualities,  properties,  or  events — than  he  can  divest  him- 
self of  the  belief  that  they  have  any  existence  at  all. 
He  may  deny  their  distinct  individuality,  or  profess  his 
doubts  concerning  it ;  but  every  moment  he  acts  upon 


ON    CREATION. 


163 


the  belief  that  they  are  persons,  having  personal  proper- 
ties, or  powers.  There  is  not  a  man  that  lives,  who  does 
not  form  all  his  plans,  and  shape  his  whole  course  of 
action  under  the  influence  of  this  inwrought  and  un- 
changeable belief. 

The  same  remarks  apply  with  undiminished  force  to 
the  belief  of  an  external  world  in  general.     Such  a  be- 
lief all  men  have — a  belief  in  things  without,  as  having 
a  positive   and  continued  existence,  in  distinction  from 
their  own  ideas  and  impressions,  and  no  less  in  distinc- 
tion from  mere  properties  and  powers.     Nor  is  this  belief 
like  that  which  is  sometimes  occasioned  by  the  illusion 
of  our  senses,  which  may  be  corrected  by  more  careful 
inquiry.     It  goes  deep  into  the  very  constitution  of  the 
mind,  and  can  neither  be  shaken  off  nor  corrected  by 
all  the  art  and  ingenuity  of  philosophical  investigation. 
And  well  for  us  is  it  that  it  cannot ;  for  the  preservation 
of  our  being  depends  upon  it,  and  perhaps,  too,  all  our 
moral  distinctions  and  our   consequent  accountability. 
Certainly,  it  would  seem  that  we  could  not  discriminate 
between  man  and  man,  nor  pass  any  judgment  upon 
ourselves,  without  presupposing  our  belief  in  personal 
identity — or,  which  is  the   same  thing,  in  the  personal 
existence  of  a  being,  aside  from  his  character  or  his 
qualities.     And  yet  what  identity  can  there  be,  in  mind 
at  least,  if  the  subject  and  its  properties,  or  mind  and  its 
operations,  be   not   distinct  ?     Bishop  Berkeley  himself 
was  well  aware  of  this ;  and  therefore,  though  he  denied 
the  existence  of  matter,  and  even  the  possibility  of  it, 
contended  for  the  existence  of  mind,  as  a  substance  dis- 
tinct from  its  qualities,  powers,  or  operations.     The  same 
is  the  case  with  Kirwan,  the  zealous  and  able  defender 
of  Berkeley.     He  insists  that  the  mind,  though  known 
only  by  its  properties  and  powers,  is  nevertheless  a  being 
or  substance  distinct  from  its  phenomena,  and  introduces 
Mr.  Merian,  one  of  the  ablest  metaphysicians  of  his  age, 


ON    CREATION. 

as  replying  to  Mr.  Hume  in  the  following  manner.  [The 
extract  is  taken  from  the  Memoirs  of  Berlin  for  1793.] 
"  According  to  Mr.  Hume/'  says  this  able  writer,  "  we 
are  nothing  but  an  aggregate  of  phenomena.  Now  I  ask 
if  a  phenomenon  can  exist  without  being  perceived  ?  If 
not,  I  ask  who  perceives  it  ?  To  this  question  there  are 
but  three  possible  answers :  either  it  is  perceived  by 
itself,  or  by  some  other  phenomenon,  or  by  something 
that  is  not  a  phenomenon.  Now,  a  phenomenon  per- 
ceiving itself,  would  be  strange  indeed  :  sounds  hearing 
themselves,  smells  smelling  themselves,  &c.  Besides, 
in  this  case  there  could  be  no  comparison  of  the  phe- 
nomena, nor  consequently  any  judgment  founded  on 
such  comparison.  Secondly,  to  say  that  phenomena  can 
perceive  other  phenomena  is  still,  if  possible,  more  ab- 
surd ;  for  instance,  smells  hearing  sounds,  sounds  seeing 
colors.  *  *  *  Therefore,  thirdly,  there  must  be  a  sub- 
ject or  substratum  of  these  perceptions,  of  which  they 
are  modifications.  Moreover,  sensations  of  one  sort  are 
often  compared  with  sensations  of  another  sort,  as  those 
of  sight  with  those  of  hearing.  Now,  can  vision  judge  of 
hearing  1  or  colors  judge  of  sounds  ?  May  we  not  have 
two  simultaneous  sensations  contrary  to  each  other  ? 
May  we  not  feel  extreme  heat  in  one  hand,  and  extreme 
cold  in  the  other?  Can  then  two  contrary  sensations 
coexist  without  any  subject  ?  But  it  were  idle  to  pursue 
this  matter  farther." 

I  own  this  argument  strikes  me  powerfully ;  and  if  it 
stood  alone,  it  would  convince  me  that  a  subject  and  its 
properties  are  distinct  things,  and  that  the  latter  neces- 
sarily presuppose  the  former.  But  the  argument  does 
not  stand  alone.  We  have  a  deep-seated  belief,  I  have 
already  remarked,  in  our  own  personal  existence,  and  in 
that  of  others,  aside  from  our  qualities,  actions,  or  powers— 
a  belief  which  prevails  with  undiminished  strength,  at 
all  times  and  places,  while  reason  itself  is  prolonged. 


ON    CREATION. 


165 


But  whence  the  origin  of  this  belief?  Can  it  rationally 
be  ascribed  to  anything  but  the  forming  hand  of  our 
Creator,  who  has  deeply  engraven  it  upon  the  inmost 
folds  of  the  mind  ?  Has  he  laid  us  under  a  necessity, 
then,  of  believing  what  is  not  true  ?  or  shall  we  admit 
the  correctness  of  these  primary  and  immovable  impres- 
sions ?  To  me  it  appears  dangerous  to  call  in  question 
such  original  and  invariable  dictates  of  the  human  mind ; 
for  if  we  may  be  wrong  here,  who  knows  that  we  are 
right  anywhere  ?  What  security  can  we  have  for  virtue  ? 
or  to  what  tribunal  shall  we  make  our  appeal  even  for 
its  very  existence  ?  How  can  we  be  certain  that  there 
is  a  God  ?  We  infer  his  being  from  his  works,  because 
we  believe  that  they  are  not  self-existent,  and  could  not 
come  into  being  without  a  cause  ;  but  this  sentiment, 
that  nothing  can  exist  without  a  cause,  is  neither  more 
original,  more  uniform,  nor  more  stable,  than  the  belief 
we  have  in  our  own  personal  existence,  as  the  subject 
of  properties,  qualities  and  powers.  Call  this  belief  an 
illusion,  and  who  shall  confirm  us  in  the  correctness  of 
the  other  sentiment  ?  But  there  is  little  danger,  after 
all.  Nature  is  true  to  her  purpose ;  and  men,  though 
they  may  profess  their  scepticism,  will  continue  to  be- 
lieve in  their  own  existence,  and  in  an  external  world. 
They  will  think  that  mind  is  something,  and  matter 
something ;  and  though  each  is  known  only  by  its  pro- 
perties, still  they  cannot  fail  to  believe  that  both  exist,  as 
the  subject  of  the  properties  which  they  severally  display. 


LECTURE    V. 


ON    CREATION. 


GOD,  says  an  eloquent  writer,  is  a  sun,  whose  bright- 
ness our  eyes  cannot  behold ;  whose  transcendent  light 
blinds  us,  so  that  we  cannot  steadfastly  contemplate  it, 
without  being  dazzled  and  confounded.  But  this  sun 
presents  itself  to  us  in  a  mirror ;  this  mirror  is  the  uni- 
verse, where  God  has  exhibited  to  us  an  admirable  por- 
trait of  his  perfections.  And  to  this  Paul  alludes, 
when  he  says,  "  that  the  invisible  things  of  God,  even 
his  eternal  power  and  majesty,  are  clearly  seen  by  the 
things  that  are  made." 

In  our  remarks,  previously  submitted,  on  the  subject  of 
Creation,  we  endeavored  to  make  it  appear  that  that 
which  was  created,  was  something  distinct  from  God,  and 
was  neither  his  substance  nor  his  attributes,  nor  an 
exercise  of  these  ;  but  something  ad  extra  in  relation  to 
him — a  work  or  creature  of  God.  That  if  this  some- 
thing was  distinct  from  God,  it  could  not  be  a  mere 
property  or  attribute,  nor  an  assemblage  of  these,  but  a 
being  or  substance  of  which  properties  and  attributes 
could  be  affirmed.  To  suppose  an  attribute  without  a 
substance,  or  a  property  without  a  subject,  we  consid- 
ered as  involving  the  same  kind  of  absurdity  as  to  sup- 
pose an  act  without  an  agent,  or  a  feeling  or  perception 
without  some  being  that  feels  or  perceives. 


ON    CREATION. 


167 


We  attempted  to  confirm  our  views,  not  only  by  a 
reference  to  the  common  principles  of  all  languages,  and 
to  the  forms  of  speech  employed  in  the  Bible,  but  by  an 
argument  drawn  from  the  belief  which  every  man  has 
in  his  own  personal  identity,  and  in  that  of  his  fellow- 
men — a  belief  which  compels  him  to  admit  that  he  is  a 
person,  or  being,  the  subject  of  properties,  qualities  or 
powers.  And  we  attempted  to  show,  farther,  that  this 
primary  and  deep-seated  belief  was  a  law  of  our  consti- 
tution, as  original  and  as  stable  as  any  of  the  first  prin- 
ciples upon  which  our  reasonings  are  grounded,  and  that 
if  we  called  this  in  question,  we  had  no  sure  footing  for 
any  of  our  principles  or  reasonings  whatsoever;  they 
having  no  higher  authority  than  the  original  and  prima- 
ry feelings  of  our  own  minds. 

We  now  raise  another  question,  closely  connected 
with  the  foregoing  discussion,  namely,  on  the  supposi- 
tion that  we  are  right  in  supposing  that  every  property 
implies  a  subject,  and  every  attribute  a  substance,  is  the 
converse  or  counterpart  of  this  true,  that  every  subject 
implies  a  property,  and  every  substance  an  attribute  of 
some  kind  ?  or  which  comes  to  the  same  thing,  that 
every  created  existence  is  necessarily,  and  from  the  mere 
fact  of  its  creation,  possessed  of  certain  properties,  qual- 
ities or  powers  ? 

That  every  created  being  has  certain  relations  to  its 
Creator,  is  just  as  certain  as  that  it  has  any  existence  ; 
and  if  there  are  other  beings,  that  it  bears  corresponding 
relations  to  them.  To  suppose  otherwise,  would  be  to 
suppose  that  two  lines  might  be  drawn  in  the  universe, 
and  yet  be  neither  parallel  nor  angular  in  regard  to  each 
other. 

That  every  substance  has  some  property  involved  in 
its  existence,  is  a  proposition  we  should  think  no  less 
evident.  For  it  is  just  as  inconceivable  that  there  should 
be  substances  without  properties,  as  properties  without 


ON   CREATION. 

substances,  or  either  without  relations.  Take  away 
every  supposable  property  from  a  substance,  and  what 
would  remain  ?  What  is  matter  without  solidity  or  ex- 
tension, without  attraction,  repulsion,  or  any  other  pro- 
perty cognizable  by  the  senses  ?  What  is  mind  without 
sensation,  perception  or  reflection — without  memory, 
will  or  desire  ?  Strip  it  of  its  qualities,  and  you  strip  it 
of  its  being;  because  it  seems  as  impossible  that  it 
should  exist  without  these,  as  that  it  should  exist  and 
not  exist  at  the  same  time.  A  substance  and  its  proper- 
ties, at  least  those  which  are  primary,  mutually  involve 
each  other,  just  as  a  substance  and  its  relations.  But 
relations,  it  may  be  said,  have  no  real  or  positive  exist- 
ence. They  are  only  modes  of  being,  or  the  abstract 
notions  we  form  of  substances  in  regard  to  each  other, 
or  in  regard  to  something  which  we  suppose  to  exist ; 
out  of  our  minds,  they  have  no  existence  at  all.  It  is  a 
fact,  nevertheless,  that  we  necessarily  form  these  notions 
as  often  as  the  related  substances  are  presented.  Two 
tennis  balls  are  placed  upon  the  table.  As  soon  as  I 
perceive  them,  the  relations  of  distance  or  contiguity,  of 
equality  or  inequality,  are  perceived.  That  is  to  say, 
these  substances  excite  in  my  mind  such  ideas  of  rela- 
tion, or,  they  thus  affect  me;  and  because  they  thus 
affect  me,  I  believe  and  pronounce  them  to  be  thus  re- 
lated. And  I  believe,  moreover,  that  while  the  sub- 
stances in  all  respects  remain  the  same,  and  their  posi- 
tion and  other  circumstances  the  same,  these  relations 
will  be  the  same. 

Nor  does  it  make  any  difference  in  my  belief,  whether 
it  be  supposed  that  these  ideas  of  relation  were  excited 
in  my  mind  by  the  immediate  agency  of  God,  or  by  the 
tennis  balls  themselves.  I  firmly  believe  that  these  re- 
lations exist,  and  that  they  will  continue  to  exist,  unless 
some  change  shall  take  place  in  the  organization  or  po- 
sition of  the  substances  related.  The  relations  are  seen 


ON    CREATION. 

to  be  inevitable  upon  the  supposition  of  the  substances, 
nor  can  I  be  made  to  believe  that  they  depend  in  any 
measure  upon  my  perceiving  them.  The  fact  of  these 
relations,  in  the  circumstances  supposed,  is  an  eternal 
truth  which  nothing  can  destroy — just  as  it  is  a  truth 
that  the  opposite  sides  of  a  parallelogram  must  forever 
remain  equal  while  the  figure  is  preserved. 

With  the  same  certainty,  if  not  for  the  same  reason, 
will  the  properties  of  a  substance  stand  connected  with 
the  substance.  The  existence  of  the  substance  involves 
the  existence  of  the  properties — certainly  of  those  which 
are  essential.  A  particle  of  matter,  for  instance,  would 
be  just  what  it  is,  and  its  properties  or  powers  in  rela- 
tion to  the  material  system  just  what  they  are,  if  there 
were  no  perceiving  eye  to  observe  them.  They  neces- 
sarily coexist  and  imply  each  other,  though  in  a  different 
way — the  one  as  a  subject,  and  the  other  as  the  property 
belonging  to  the  subject.  Whether  the  properties  of 
any  substance  are  to  be  regarded  simply  as  its  relations, 
we  undertake  not  now  to  determine ;  we  merely  assert 
as  a  fact,  that  the  one  cannot  exist  where  the  other  does  not 
exist.  This  we  think  must  be  true,  whether  we  adopt 
the  old  philosophy  of  a  substratum  in  which  the  proper- 
ties inhere,  or  the  system  of  Brown,  which  affirms  that 
the  properties  of  substances  are  but  the  substances  themselves. 
The  latter  scheme  supposes  that  there  is  nothing  in  the 
universe  but  substances,  and  that  what  wre  call  their 
properties  and  powers  are  mere  abstract  notions  of  the 
relations  which  the  substances  bear  to  each  other  in  the 
changes  which  take  place  among  them,  and  the  order  in 
which  the  changes  occur. 

Fire  has  the  property  of  melting  metals — water  the 
property  of  melting  salt — that  is,  these  changes  occur 
when  the  substances  concerned  come  into  contact  with 
each  other,  and  in  circumstances  in  which,  according  to 
the  laws  of  their  being,  such  changes  are  known  to  fol- 


170  ON    CREATION. 

low.  In  these  cases,  we  remark  the  relation  of  antece- 
dent and  consequent,  or  of  cause  and  effect,  while  the 
changes  that  take  place  in  consequence  of  this  relation, 
indicate  the  properties  or  powers  of  the  bodies  that  are 
thus  related.  Still,  this  philosopher  maintains  that  there 
is  here  no  real  positive  existence,  but  in  the  substances 
supposed — the  fire  and  the  metals  in  the  one  case,  and 
the  water  and  the  salt  in  the  other.  If  there  is  any  posi- 
tive existence  besides,  what  and  where  is  it  ?  Does  it  lie 
in  the  changes  which  have  occurred  ?  They  are  obvi- 
ously nothing  but  a  modification  of  what  existed  before. 
Does  it  lie  in  the  mere  susceptibility  of  change  ?  This  is 
only  the  relation  which  one  substance  bears  to  another, 
which  in  given  circumstances  effects  a  change  in  it,  as  its 
antecedent  or  its  cause.  Thus,  for  example,  salt  has  the 
susceptibility  of  being  melted ;  but  it  is  only  in  relation 
to  the  water,  which  is  said  to  have  the  power  of  melting 
it.  It  has  not  this  susceptibility  absolutely,  nor  in  relation 
to  other  bodies,  which  never  produce  the  specified  change. 
True  it  is  that  the  salt  and  the  water  must  be  brought 
together,  or  the  liquefaction  will  not  follow ;  but  this  is 
only  a  change  in  position,  and  adds  nothing  to  the  exist- 
ence of  either  body.  There  is  no  circumstance  connected 
with  the  susceptibility  supposed,  which  indicates  it  to  be 
anything  but  a  relation  which  the  salt  has  to  the  water 
that  dissolves  it. 

How  then  is  it,  with  respect  to  the  power  of  producing 
change  ?  The  water  in  which  this  power  is  supposed  to 
be  lodged,  is  said  to  melt  the  salt.  What  is  there  here, 
the  abettor  of  this  philosophy  would  ask,  but  the  naked 
substance  ?  Do  you  say  the  power  of  melting  the  salt  ? 
Truly,  he  would  reply — but  what  is  power  1  Is  it  any 
positive  existence  in  rerum  natura  ?  or  is  it  expressive 
only  of  the  fact,  that  there  will  be  a  change  in  the  salt, 
on  the  application  of  water?  What  more  is  there  in  or 
about  the  process,  except  it  be  our  belief  in  the  invaria- 


ON    CREATION. 

bleness  of  the  sequence  ?  or  the  certainty  of  the  result  ? 
Is  anything  else  known,  can  anything  else  be  conceived  ? 

If  this  be  a  fair  statement  of  the  case,  (but  whether  it 
be  so  or  not,  it  is  not  our  intention  to  affirm,)  it  would 
seem,  indeed,  to  follow,  that  power  is  neither  more  nor 
less  than  invariabkness  of  antecedence,  in  relation  to  some 
change  which  takes  place,  as  its  invariable  consequence ; 
and  therefore,  in  this  respect,  like  susceptibility,  merely 
marks  a  certain  relation  which  one  substance  has  to  an- 
other, in  the  changes  which  occur  in  the  regular  order 
of  events.  Should  this  be  admitted  a  correct  view  of 
the  phenomena  of  nature,  it  cannot  be  doubted,  for  a  mo- 
ment, that  the  powers,  properties  and  qualities  of  substances, 
whether  spiritual  or  material,  are  inseparable  from  the 
substances  themselves ;  that  if  the  substances  exist,  their 
properties  and  powers  will  exist  (we  speak  of  those 
which  are  essential) ;  and  to  annihilate  the  latter,  you 
must  annihilate  the  former.  The  reason  is,  according  to 
the  present  hypothesis,  they  are  not  so  properly  different 
things,  as  the  same  things,  under  different  aspects ;  the 
whole  of  created  existence  being  only  the  substances 
which  God  has  made,  and  their  properties  and  powers 
nothing  more  than  the  relations  which  these  substances 
bear  to  each  other,  in  the  changes  which  take  place 
among  them. 

We  do  not  avow  our  belief  of  the  entire  correctness 
of  this  system ;  but  if  it  fail,  we  are  fully  convinced  that 
it  does  not  fail  in  the  article  of  showing,  that  wherever 
there  are  substances,  there  will  inevitably  be  properties 
or  powers,  as  an  inseparable  adjunct  of  their  being  ;  and 
that  the  mystery  in  this  case,  if  mystery  there  be,  lies 
not  in  the  fact,  that  substances  should  have  properties 
or  powers,  and  thus  accomplish  something,  but  in  the 
mere  fact  of  their  existence. 

Let  this  system,  then,  be  sustained,  or  otherwise  it  will 
make  no  difference  in  the  question  before  us ;  for  if  any 


172  ON    CREATION. 

created  substance  exist,  it  is  inconceivable  that  it  should 
not  involve  powers  and  susceptibilities  of  some  kind ;  for 
that  which  affects  nothing,  and  is  affected  by  nothing, 
most  surely  is  nothing. 

There  is  no  escape  from  this  conclusion,  unless  it  could 
be  shown  that  the  property  of  a  thing  is  something  differ- 
ent from  the  power  of  a  thing,  and  that  the  power  of  a 
thing  can  be  distinguished  from  a  power  to  affect  some- 
thing, or  to  be  affected  by  something. 

Let  any  man  settle  in  his  own  mind  distinctly,  what 
he  means  by  properties,  qualities,  or  powers,  and  how  he 
comes  to  know  that  they  are  predicable  of  any  particu- 
lar substance,  whether  matter  or  mind,  and  he  will  per- 
ceive at  once  that  he  can  form  no  idea  of  an  inefficacious 
property  or  a  powerless  power ;  but  that  in  every  case 
where  he  admits  the  existence  of  a  property,  he  admits 
it  either  as  the  cause  or  the  susceptibility  of  change.  One 
or  the  other  it  must  be  ;  and  when  considered  actively,  it 
is  always  regarded  as  a  cause.  Be  it  so,  says  an  objector  ; 
but  who  knows  that  there  is  any  substance  in  the  case  ? 
Why  may  not  properties  be  all  ?  It  is  these  alone  we 
perceive  ;  and  why  resort  to  a  substance  in  which  they 
inhere  ?  Can  we  prove  the  existence  of  any  such  sub- 
stance ?  Why  not  believe  that  properties  or  powers 
compose  the  whole  of  created  being  ?  We  answer,  for 
the  same  reason  precisely,  that  we  neither  do,  nor  can 
believe,  that  they  compose  the  whole  of  uncreated  being. 

We  believe  that  God  is  a  substance,  a  Being,  a  Person, 
and  that  he  is  possessed  of  certain  attributes  or  powers. 
So  he  is  revealed  to  us,  and  such  our  minds,  unsophisti- 
cated by  the  subtleties  of  reasoning,  naturally  conceive 
him  to  be. 

Atheistical  philosophers  have  indeed  propounded  the 
abstract  theory  of  a  God,  without  any  unity  of  per- 
ception, will,  or  design;  or  rather  they  have  denied 
the  existence  of  God,  and  substituted  in  his  stead  a 


ON    CREATION 

mere  principle,  or  efficacy.  But  I  know  of  no  Christian 
divines  who  ever  went  to  this  length.  They  have  some- 
times supposed  that  the  Divine  attributes  were  resolvable 
into  the  Divine  essence,  or  that  attributes,  as  they  exist 
in  God,  and  apart  from  our  view,  are  not  distinguishable 
from  his  essence.  But  they  have  never  changed  the 
tables,  and  denied  his  essence,  as  an  Uncreated  Being. 
Yet  why  might  not  this  be  done  ?  if  the  principle  just 
laid  down  be  a  sound  one — that  we  know  nothing  of 
essences  or  substances,  aside  from  qualities  or  attributes,  or 
in  distinction  from  them,  and  therefore  that  the  former 
have  no  claim  to  be  the  object  of  our  belief?  Surely, 
we  know  nothing  of  God's  essence,  but  from  the  exhibition 
of  his  attributes  or  powers ;  yet  from  these  we  infer  the 
reality  of  his  Being.  We  see  everywhere  in  his  works, 
the  marks  of  design,  if  nothing  else  ;  and  our  reason 
teaches  us,  that  that  which  contrives  and  has  design,  is 
not  a  mere  principle,  but  a  person.  "  These  capacities/' 
says  Dr.  Paley,  "  constitute  personality,  for  they  imply 
consciousness  and  thought.  They  require  that  which  can 
perceive  an  end,  or  purpose — as  well  as  the  power  of 
providing  means  and  directing  them  to  their  end.  They 
require  a  centre,  in  which  perceptions  unite,  and  from 
which  volitions  flow,  which  is  mind.  The  acts  of  a  mind 
prove  the  existence  of  a  mind ;  and  in  whatever  a  mind 
resides  is  a  person.  The  seat  of  intellect  is  a  person." 
We  shall  probably  not  demur  to  this  reasoning  when 
applied  to  God.  Why  should  we  hesitate,  when  it  is 
applied  to  the  creatures  of  God  ?  If  the  exhibition  of 
his  attributes  carry  us  to  the  belief  of  his  existence,  why 
should  not  the  exhibition  of  their  attributes  carry  us  to 
the  belief  of  their  existence  ?  the  properties  of  mind 
convincing  us  of  mind,  and  the  properties  of  matter  con- 
vincing us  of  matter.  No  reason  can  be  assigned  why 
the  conclusion  should  be  admitted  in  the  one  case,  and 
not  in  the  other.  Nor  do  I  imagine  that  there  is  any 


174  ON    CREATION. 

doubt  as  to  the  reality  of  the  fact;  for  whether  we  will 
or  not,  our  belief  is  permanently  fixed  on  this  great  sub- 
ject, as  every  man's  actions  plainly  demonstrate.  It  is 
a  law  of  our  constitution,  to  believe  a  subject  where  we 
find  a  property,  and  a  property  where  we  find  a  subject. 

The  only  legitimate  conclusion,  then,  to  be  drawn 
from  the  necessary  coexistence  of  substances,  and  their 
properties  or  powers,  is  either  that  maintained  by  Brown 
— that  substances  and  their  powers  are  not  so  properly 
different  things,  as  the  same  things  under  different 
aspects,  namely,  the  substances  and  their  relations ;  or, 
the  more  ancient  and  common  doctrine,  that  though 
the  essence  of  a  thing  is  to  be  distinguished  from  the 
properties  of  a  thing,  or  from  its  modes,  yet,  in  the  nature 
of  things,  they  are  inseparable — so  that  one  cannot  exist 
without  the  other,  nor  be  destroyed  without  destroying 
the  other. 

Give  existence,  then,  and  you  give  relations — give 
existence  and  you  give  properties  and  powers,  which 
will  continue  as  long  as  the  existence  itself  continues, 
unmodified  and  undiminished  in  their  energy,  till  some 
change  takes  place  in  the  substance  to  which  they 
belong,  or  in  the  relations  which  it  bears  to  other  sub- 
stances. (See  note  A.) 

This,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  collect,  was  the 
current  doctrine,  both  of  philosophers  and  of  the  vulgar, 
antecedent  to  the  days  of  Descartes.  And  it  is  now  the 
fixed  belief  of  all  men  who  have  not  been  entangled  by 
the  dogmas  of  a  subtle  philosophy.  On  this  sentiment  has 
been  founded  the  doctrine  of  second  causes,  through  the 
medium  of  which  it  has  been  supposed  that  God  governs 
the  world. 

To  me  it  appears  impossible  to  showjiiat  there  are 
any  such  things  as  second  causes  or  means  in  the  universe, 
without  admitting  that  the  properties  and  powers  of  a 
being  are  inseparable  from  its  existence.  For  it  is  only 


ON    CREATION. 


175 


by  its  properties  or  powers  that  it  does  anything,  or 
makes  itself  known. 

If  it  does  nothing,  it  surely  does  not  affect  me  ;  if  it 
does  not  affect  me,  how  can  I  know  that  it  exists  ? 

This  simple  statement  might  seem  to  settle  the  ques- 
tion forever.  But  when  the  mind  gets  involved  with 
other  speculations  it  finds  a  resort  in  words  and  forms  of 
expression,  which  seem  incapable,  to  say  the  least,  of  any 
clear  definition.  Hence,  it  is  sometimes  Lreplied  to 
the  foregoing  statement,  that  though  a  second  cause  (the 
light  for  instance)  does  not  affect  me  by  its  own  power, 
yet  it  is  made  to  do  it  by  the  power  of  the  Deity.  It  is 
a  mean  in  God's  hands  of  accomplishing  what  it  seems 
to  accomplish. 

Certainly  we  shall  admit  that  it  is  a  mean  in  God's 
hands ;  because  it  derived  its  being  and  powers,  what- 
ever they  are,  from  God,  and  both  are  continued  at  his 
pleasure.  But  has  it  been  well  considered  what  is  im- 
plied in  its  being  a  mean  in  God's  hands  ?  If  it  has  no 
power  how  can  it  be  a  mean  ?  Can  either  God  or  man 
work  by  a  mean  which  is  absolutely  powerless  ?  Is  not 
the  supposition  wholly  inconceivable  ?  Try  this  ques- 
tion in  your  own  minds,  and  see  if  you  can  find  a  case 
wThere  an  instrument  absolutely  powerless  can  be  em- 
ployed ?  Nay,  try  another  question.  See  if  you  can  tell 
what  a  mean  or  instrument  is  stripped  of  all  power.  Let  it 
bejire,  earthy  air,  water,  no  matter  what.  Strip  it  of  all 
power,  or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  strip  it  of  every 
property,  and  then  tell  us  what  it  is. 

Perhaps,  however,  when  it  is  said  that  means  have  no 
power  in  themselves,  all  that  is  meant  is,  that  they  have 
no  power  to  accomplish  the  particular  end  for  which 
they  are  employed  as  a  mean,  and  not  that  they  have  no 
power  in  any  respect ;  for,  in  that  case,  it  would  seem 
that  their  use  would  be  impossible,  and  it  could  not  be 
known  that  they  existed.  But  why,  let  me  ask,  should 


176 


ON    CREATION. 


it  be  supposed,  that  they  have  no  power  in  themselves,  in 
this  particular  case,  more  than  in  any  other  case,  where 
their  properties  or  powers  are  displayed  ?  If  they  are 
powerless  in  this  connection,  why  not  in  every  other  ? 
or  if  they  exert  an  influence  anywhere,  why  not  here  ? 
If,  in  the  supposed  case,  they  have  no  fitness  nor  tendency 
to  accomplish  the  effect,  where  is  the  wisdom  of  employ- 
ing them,  and  what  is  their  use  ?  What  do  they  actually 
do  in  the  case  ?  There  are  only  three  suppositions  which 
can  be  made  on  the  subject.  The  first  is,  that  they 
really  produce  the  effect  which  they  seem  to  produce. 
The  second  is,  that  they  accomplish  nothing,  but  the 
effect  proceeds  wholly  from  the  power  of  God,  immedi- 
ately exerted ;  and  the  third  is,  that  the  effect  proceeds 
partly  from  the  immediate  agency  of  God,  and  partly 
from  the  intrinsic  force  of  the  means.  If  the  first  or  last 
supposition  be  true,  means  in  themselves  have  some  power, 
and  do  actually  accomplish  something.  But  if  the  second 
supposition  contain  the  truth,  then  means  are  indeed 
powerless,  and  as  powerless  when  employed  as  when  un- 
employed ;  for  no  part  of  the  effect  is  attributable  to 
them  ;  and  if,  in  all  other  connections,  they  were  equally 
inefficacious,  it  could  not  be  known  that  they  existed, 
except  by  special  revelation. 

Besides,  in  this  supposition,  can  anybody  tell  what  is 
meant  by  the  use  of  means  ?  If  they  really  accomplish 
nothing,  and  in  their  own  nature  are  fitted  to  accomplish 
nothing,  how  does  God  work  by  them  ?  What  is  their 
instrumentality  ?  Nothing  is  done  through  their  agency; 
for  it  is  plain  they  have  no  agency,  the  whole  effect  pro- 
ceeding entirely  from  the  immediate  exertion  of  the 
Divine  Power.  On  this  supposition,  too,  what  becomes 
of  the  Divine  wisdom,  which  is  generally  thought  to  ap- 
pear in  a  wonderful  adaptation  of  means  to  their  ends  ? 
If  means,  in  fact,  accomplish  nothing,  they  are  fitted  to 
accomplish  nothing,  and  all  wisdom  ceases  in  their  appli- 


ON    CREATION. 


177 


cation,  there  being  just  as  much  connection  between  the 
breath  of  a  musquetoe  and  the  falling  of  a  tree,  or  the 
existence  of  an  oyster  and  the  production  of  a  poem,  as 
between  the  best-adapted  means  and  their  end :  that  is 
to  say,  there  is  no  instrumental  or  causal  connection  what- 
ever ;  all  is  done  by  the  immediate  and  positive  efficiency 
of  God. 

But  is  this  a  fair  statement  of  the  argument  ?  It  is 
not  admitted,  it  will  be  said,  that  means  are  absolutely 
powerless  when  employed ;  they  are  so  only  in  them- 
selves, and  when  unemployed.  When  actually  employed 
by  the  Deity,  they  have  power ;  for  God  gives  them  a 
power.  Tell  us,  then,  what  is  meant  by  God's  giving 
them  a  power.  Does  he  impart  to  them  a  quality  which 
they  had  not  before  ?  so  that  it  is  now  their  quality  or 
power,  and  not  his  ?  If  this  be  the  fact,  then  in  truth 
they  do  something,  and  something  in  and  by  themselves. 
But  if  God  imparts  to  them  this  power  the  moment  they 
are  employed,  what  objection  can  there  be  to  his  having 
imparted  it  to  them  before,  and  to  his  having  lodged  it 
in  the  very  constitution  of  their  being  ?  On  the  other 
hand,  if  he  does  not  impart  to  them  any  new  and  distinct 
quality  or  power,  and  cause  it  to  become  theirs,  not  his, 
then  this  power  is  but  his  after  all,  and  not  theirs,  and 
they  are  equally  powerless  as  before  ;  then,  also,  it  is 
his  agency  which  is  exerted,  and  not  theirs,  and  the  effect 
is  solely  to  be  attributed  to  him,  and  attributed  to  him 
as  the  immediate  and  exclusive  agent  in  the  case.  Thus 
we  arrive  at  the  same  conclusion  as  in  a  former  part  of 
the  argument,  and  with  augmented  conviction  that  it  is 
the  legitimate  result  of  well-grounded  premises. 

The  whole  subject,  however,  may  be  set  in  a  still 
stronger  light,  by  adverting  to  this  general,  but  obvious 
alternative — that  what  we  call  the  properties  or  powers 
of  created  beings  are,  universally,  either  the  properties 
and  powers  of  such  beings,  or  they  are  the  mere  action 
12 


|_78  ON    CREATION. 

or  agency  of  God.  There  is  here  no  middle  ground, 
because  what  is  not  a  creature's  power  is  God's.  Property, 
quality  and  power,  when  considered  actively,  (and  in  this 
place  we  so  consider  them,)  are  nothing  but  Brown's 
immediate  and  invariable  antecedents,  or  the  regular 
producers  of  change.  Property,  quality  and  power,  are 
here  used  for  the  substances  in  which  such  attributes 
are  supposed  to  belong ;  or,  according  to  an  older  phi- 
losophy, they  are  simply  the  causes  of  change.  Now, 
these  causes  are  either  the  powers  and  agency  of  the 
creature,  or  they  are  the  powers  and  agency  of  God. 
If  they  belong  to  creatures,  then  creatures  have  an 
agency,  and  actually  accomplish  something.  If  they 
belong  to  God,  then  there  is  no  creature  agency 
that  we  know  of,  and  consequently  no  creatures ;  for 
creatures,  if  they  exist,  can  be  known  only  by  their 
properties  or  agencies.  If  these  agencies,  therefore,  are 
not  theirs,  but  God's,  we  have  no  evidence  of  the  exist- 
ence of  creatures,  but  must  regard  creation  as  a  nullity 
or  a  dream. 

Let  me  illustrate  this  by  a  familiar  example.  I  suppose 
a  cubic  inch  of  gold  lies  before  me.  What  is  the  proof 
of  its  existence  ?  Certainly  nothing  but  its  properties 
which  act  upon  my  senses :  it  affects  my  vision,  it  affects 
my  touch.  If  I  take  it  in  my  hand,  I  perceive  not  only 
its  solidity  and  extension,  but  its  gravity.  If  I  throw  it 
on  the  table,  or  on  the  floor,  it  produces  sound.  But  in 
all  this,  I  am  conscious  only  of  certain  sensations  ;  whence 
do  I  learn  the  existence  of  the  gold  ?  Why,  according 
to  the  dictates  of  common  sense,  I  refer  my  sensations 
to  the  gold,  as  their  cause.  It  was  that  I  say,  which 
thus  variously  affected  me.  But  did  it  thus  affect  me  ? 
am  I  certain  ?  It  was  that,  or  something  else,  or  my 
sensations  have  no  cause.  What  am  I  to  believe  ?  I  can 
believe  but  one  of  two  things — that  it  was  the  gold  which 
affected  me  by  its  own  intrinsic  agency,  which  I  denomi- 


ON    CREATION. 


179 


nate  its  properties  or  its  powers — or  it  was  God.  There 
is  room  for  no  other  supposition,  and  no  other  will  pro- 
bably be  made.  It  might,  indeed,  be  said  that  the  effect 
was  partly  owing  to  one  of  these  causes,  and  partly  to 
the  other.  But  those  who  are  chiefly  concerned  in  this 
argument,  will  doubtless  admit  that  my  sensations  were 
produced,  either  by  the  gold  itself,  or  by  the  immediate 
agency  of  God.  Now  if  I  yield  to  the  first  part  of  this 
alternative,  I  have  not  only  common  sense  to  support 
me,  but  I  have  evidence  of  the  existence  of  the  gold,  as 
the  workmanship  of  God,  and  can  judge  of  the  nature 
of  its  existence  by  its  properties  and  powers.  But  if  I 
take  the  other  side  of  the  alternative,  I  give  up  all  evi- 
dence of  the  gold's  existence,  and  regard  its  properties 
or  agencies  as  the  mere  agency  of  God.  Thus  I  dispose 
of  the  existence  of  the  gold,  and  of  all  material  substances 
universally.  For  since  the  supposed  properties  of  mat- 
ter are  nothing  but  the  agency  of  Deity,  what  is  there 
left  to  constitute  this  substance,  but  an  unknown  substra- 
tum, whose  existence  our  opponents  in  this  argument 
stoutly  deny  ?  A  material  creation  is,  then,  out  of  the 
question ;  and,  by  the  same  rules  of  philosophizing,  an 
immaterial  one  no  less.  For  if  I  allow  the  properties  of  a 
material  substance  to  be  nothing  but  the  stated  action 
of  the  Deity,  how  can  I  avoid  the  conclusion  that  the 
properties  of  an  immaterial  substance  are,  in  like  manner, 
only  his  stated  action  ?  I  know  nothing  of  matter  or  of 
mind,  but  by  its  powers ;  and  if  these  powers  are  not 
predicable  of  a  created  substance  in  the  one  case,  why 
should  they  be  in  the  other  ?  or,  to  change  the  form  of 
the  argument,  if  the  supposed  properties  of  matter  ought 
to  be  considered  as  the  mere  agency  of  God,  what  reason 
can  be  given,  why  the  same  opinion  should  not  be 
adopted  with  respect  to  the  properties  of  mind  ?  Most 
certainly  this  conclusion  will  follow,  if  we  lay  down  as 
a  principle  the  doctrine  contended  for  by  some,  "  That 


180 


ON    CREATION. 


the  immediate  agency  of  God  is  universally  the  cause,  and  the 
proximate  cause,  of  all  the  changes  that  occur  in  the  material 
or  spiritual  world.  For  in  assuming  this  principle,  do  I 
not  assume  the  fact  that  God  is  the  cause,  and  the  im- 
mediate cause,  of  all  that  is  done,  whether  in  heaven  or 
in  earth,  whether  among  things  visible  or  invisible  ?  But 
if  God  is  the  cause,  and  the  efficient  and  proximate 
cause,  then  neither  matter  nor  mind  is  the  cause.  I 
mean  created  mind.  Matter  can  do  nothing,  because 
what  it  seems  to  do,  is  done  by  the  efficiency  of  the 
Deity,  and  its  apparent  agency  is  but  the  agency  of  the 
Deity.  Created  mind  can  do  nothing,  for  the  same  rea- 
son; because  what  it  seems  to  do,  is  done  by  the  imme- 
diate agency  of  God,  and  all  its  seeming  qualities  and 
agencies  are  but  the  exercise  of  the  Divine  power.  There 
is  no  retreat  from  this  conclusion,  but  by  allowing  a 
created  efficiency,  which  is  incompatible  with  the  doctrine 
of  God's  universal  and  immediate  agency.  What  then 
becomes  of  matter  and  of  mind  ?  Their  properties,  so 
far  as  they  are  efficient,  are  nothing  but  God's  agency ; 
and  inefficient  properties,  we  know,  are  no  properties  at 
all.  If  God's  agency,  therefore,  is  not  creature  agency, 
there  is  no  creature  agency,  nor  creature  itself  in  the  uni- 
verse, unless  a  creature  can  be  found  without  properties, 
qualities  or  powers. 

We  may  have  reasoned  erroneously,  my  young  brethren, 
but  we  have  endeavored  to  reason  fairly ;  and  if  we  are 
not  mistaken  in  our  results,  it  wrill  be  found  that  there 
is  no  other  alternative  but  to  admit,  that  created  substances 
are  possessed  of  properties  and  powers,  which  are  inseparable 
from  their  very  being  ;  or  that,  in  truth,  there  are  no  created 
substances  ;  and  if  no  created  substances,  no  creation — and 
consequently  that  the  whole  system  of  things,  if  things 
they  can  be  called,  is  only  God  in  operation,  or  God  in 
exercise.  Was  the  late  President  of  Yale  College,  then, 
wrong,  or  was  he  right,  when  he  suggested  that  a  certain 


ON    CREATION. 

portion  of  the  Theology  of  this  country  was  verging 
insensibly,  though  decidedly,  towards  Pantheism  ?  I  have 
no  hesitation  in  saying,  that  I  consider  such  to  be  fact, 
though  it  is  fact  of  which  the  divines  concerned  are  by 
no  means  aware. 

The  source  of  the  evil  seems  to  be,  if  an  evil  it  is  to 
be  called,  a  desire  to  go  below  the  bottom  of  things,  and 
not  to  stop  where  God  and  nature  have  raised  an  insur- 
mountable barrier.  We  are  possessed  of  very  limited 
capacities,  and  must  have  some  ultimate  facts.  To  ascer- 
tain these  is  an  article  of  importance  everywhere ;  but  on 
no  subject  is  it  more  imperatively  demanded,  than  when 
we  treat  of  God,  and  of  his  works,  whether  of  creation 
or  of  providence. 

The  work  of  Creation,  we  have  previously  remarked, 
is  a  great  mystery ;  and  a  mystery,  I  will  venture  to 
say,  which  in  this  world  we  shall  never  be  able  to  solve. 
Our  wisest  course  is  to  admit  the  fact,  that  there  is  a 
creation,  both  of  things  visible  and  invisible,  and  to  con- 
sider well  what  this  fact  implies.  We  must  take  crea- 
tures as  we  find  them,  and  judge  of  their  nature  or  con- 
stitution by  the  qualities  and  powers  which  they  exhibit; 
and  let  no  abstract  reasonings  concerning  their  depend- 
ence on  God,  or  their  connection  with  God,  drive  us 
from  those  first  principles  common  to  all  our  minds; 
principles  which  lead  us  almost  in  spite  of  ourselves  to 
regard  every  creature,  be  it  material  or  immaterial,  as 
having  a  distinct  and  separate  existence  from  the  Deity, 
possessing  properties  or  qualities  strictly  its  own,  and 
acting  in  its  own  little  sphere  with  no  less  certainty  from 
the  powers  it  possesses,  or  from  the  constitution  of  its 
being,  than  the  great  Author  of  nature  from  whom  its 
being  was  derived. 

There  are  some  objections  to  the  views  which  we 
have  taken,  which  I  would  willingly  notice,  had  I  not 


182  ON    CREATION. 

already  trespassed  upon  your  patience.  Let  me,  how- 
ever, say  one  word  to  an  objection  which  is  much  relied 
upon  by  those  who  do  not  coincide  with  the  foregoing 
statements. 

It  is  asked,  if  creatures  act  from  the  intrinsic  powers 
of  their  own  being,  or  from  the  constitution  of  their 
being,  if  this  does  not  render  them  virtually  independent 
of  God  ?  The  argument  is,  if  creatures  may  act  without 
the  immediate  agency  of  God  in  them,  and  upon  them, 
causing  them  to  act,  what  control  has  God  over  them  ? 
How  do  we  know  that  they  they  will  not  get  away  from 
God,  or,  at  least,  counteract  his  will  ?  Our  answer  is, 
that  in  giving  creatures  their  existence,  God  gave  them 
such  a  constitution,  and  surrounded  them  with  such  in- 
fluences, as  necessarily  to  secure  that  course  of  action, 
or  that  precise  development  of  their  powers  in  every  in- 
stance, as  his  infinite  wisdom  and  goodness  had  prede- 
termined. His  decretive  will,  therefore,  in  regard  to  them 
will  most  certainly  be  executed,  and  with  no  more  diffi- 
culty on  this  supposition  than  on  any  other. 

But  this,  perhaps,  will  not  satisfy.  It  may  still  be  said 
that  they  act  independently,  though  they  fulfill  the  plea- 
sure of  God.  I  reply,  what  if  it  were  so  ?  What  harm 
is  there  done  ?  Is  the  universe  less  perfect  on  this  sup- 
position than  on  any  other  ?  or,  are  its  results  less  cer- 
tain or  less  glorious  ?  But  I  inquire,  what  is  meant  by  a 
creature's  acting  independently  ?  Words  are  of  little  im- 
portance, unless  they  are  used  with  some  definite  mean- 
ing. Is  it  meant  that  the  creature  acts  without  God's 
acting  immediately  upon  it,  to  make  it  act  ?  Then  I 
admit  that  the  fact  is  so,  and  call  upon  my  opponents  for 
proof  that  it  is  otherwise.  But  if  it  is  meant  that  the 
creature  is  not  every  moment  in  the  hands  of  God,  to  be 
disposed  of  as  he  pleases,  whether  by  continuing  him 
in  being,  as  he  is,  or  by  modifying  or  destroying  that 


ON    CREATION. 


183 


being,  then  I  deny  that  the  creature  is  thus  independent; 
for,  in  all  these  respects,  he  is  absolutely  subject  to  the 
will  of  his  Sovereign.  Or,  if  by  the  creature's  acting  inde- 
pendently be  meant  that  his  actions  are  not  subject  to  the  Di- 
vine control,  so  that  they  shall  be  directed  or  modified 
as  God  pleases,  this  also  I  deny.  Because,  without 
interfering  at  all  with  the  creature's  powers  of  action,  it 
is  perfectly  easy  for  the  Divine  Being  to  bring  him  under 
such  influences  from  within  and  without,  as  shall  shape 
his  course  in  the  manner  and  to  the  end  which  the 
Divine  Wisdom  has  appointed. 

But  let  me  here  put  a  question  :  we  hear  a  great  deal 
about  God's  controlling  the  actions  of  his  creatures  ;  now 
I  want  to  know  what  sense  there  is  in  this  language,  if 
creatures  have  no  actions  or  agencies  to  control?  Is  it 
the  same  thing  to  control  an  action  as  to  create  an  action  1 
I  have  not  so  learned  English,  although  I  am  still  will- 
ing to  learn.  When  I  control  the  actions  of  another,  I 
always  suppose  that  other  capable  of  action,  and  that  the 
influence  which  I  exert  presupposes  it,  and  is  employed 
in  modifying  the  action  thus  controlled,  either  in  direct- 
ing to  the  object,  or  in  some  way  bounding  or  limiting 
its  influence.  And  I  see  no  reason  why  the  language 
should  not  have  a  like  import  when  applied  to  God. 
When  it  is  said  of  him,  that  the  wrath  of  man  shall 
praise  him,  and  that  the  remainder  of  wrath  he  will 
restrain,  it  does  not  look  much  like  his  immediately  cre- 
ating that  wrath  ;  unless  to  restrain  a  thing  is  the  same 
as  to  give  being  to  a  thing. 

I  close  this  discussion  with  the  following  remarks  : 
First.  That  we  should  not  be  hasty  in  our  decisions  on 
a  subject  which  it  must  be  admitted  is  very  subtle,  and 
attended  with  many  difficulties,  and  where  men  of  the 
most  powerful  intellect  have  not  been  agreed.  And 
Second.  That  we  must  bear  with  those  who  diflfer  from 


184  ON    CREATION. 

us,  and  allow  each  one  the  full  right  of  examining  and 
judging  for  himself;  that  we  should  do  this  not  only 
with  all  the  meekness  and  tenderness  of  Christians,  but 
with  all  the  candor  and  liberality  of  philosophers — 
whose  common  aim  should  be  be  to  encourage  investi- 
gation and  to  advance  the  cause  of  truth. 


LECTUBE    VI. 


ON    SEC  OND    CAUSES. 


ARE  SECOND  CAUSES  EFFICIENT  CAUSES'? 

BY  second  causes,  in  this  question,  are  intended  causes 
which  owe  their  existence,  and  consequently  their  pow- 
ers, to  the  Great  First  Cause.  Whatever  be  their  nature 
or  their  influence,  they  derive  all  from  God,  and  cannot 
act  but  in  subordination  to  his  will.  In  this  sense,  all 
created  existences  are  second  causes,  so  far  as  their 
agency  is  concerned  in  the  changes  which  take  place 
either  in  the  material  or  spiritual  world.  Whether  they 
are  ready  and  truly  efficient.,  effecting  what  they  seem  to 
effect,  is  the  question.  Two  opinions  on  this  subject 
have  prevailed.  Antecedently  to  the  days  of  Descartes, 
Bishop  Stillingfleet  remarks,  there  was  but  one.  Till 
then,  all  the  world  believed,  whether  philosophers  or 
vulgar,  what  the  great  mass  have  done  since — that 
second  causes  were  efficient  causes,  the  real  producers 
of  the  changes  found  in  constant  conjunction  with  them. 
Nor  can  it  be  doubted  that  this  statement  is  substantially 
correct,  since  the  same  fact  is  admitted  by  Professor 
Stewart  and  others.  We  know  it  was  the  opinion  of 
Aristotle  and  of  Cicero,  among  the  ancients — of  Bacon, 
Locke,  Newton,  Boyle,  among  the  moderns.  Even  Des- 
cartes himself  did  not  in  the  main  depart  from  this  long- 


186  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

received  doctrine,  though  in  some  of  his  speculations  he 
laid  the  foundation  for  a  new  theory.  As  he  could  not 
conceive  how  matter  could  act  upon  mind,  nor  created 
mind  upon  matter,  he  asserted,  "  that  all  motion  comes 
immediately  from  God,  and  that  it  is  a  mode  in  matter, 
but  not  in  God."  According  to  Stillingfleet,  he  was 
afraid  to  speak  out,  lest  he  should  make  God  the  soul 
of  the  world.  But  not  so  his  followers.  Malebranche, 
and  others  of  the  same  school,  eagerly  seizing  upon  this 
hint,  presently  carried  their  doctrine  so  far  as  to  affirm 
that  second  causes  have  no  efficiency  in  the  production 
of  sensation,  and  of  course  none  in  the  changes  which 
occur  in  the  physical  objects  around  us.  They  contended 
that  God  was  the  efficient  cause  in  both  cases,  and,  in 
short,  the  only  efficient  cause  in  the  universe. 

This  doctrine  soon  became  prevalent  throughout  Eu- 
rope, and,  with  some  modification,  makes  a  part  of  the 
metaphysical  systems  of  Clarke,  Butler  and  Berkeley. 
It  is  a  prominent  feature  in  the  speculations  of  Reid, 
Stewart  and  Beattie,  though  the  first  often  seems  to 
contradict  himself  upon  this  article — a  circumstance  the 
more  remarkable,  as  he  evidently  made  this  subject  a 
matter  of  much  study  and  reflection.  Professor  Stewart 
has  noticed  this  inconsistency,  and  Professor  Beazely  has 
animadverted  upon  it  in  terms  of  unmeasured  severity. 
"  The  chain  of  natural  causes,"  Dr.  Reid  observes,  "  has 
not  unfitly  been  compared  to  a  chain  hanging  down  from 
heaven :  a  link  that  is  discovered  supports  the  link  below 
it,  but  it  must  itself  be  supported,  and  that  which  sup- 
ports it  must  be  supported,  until  we  come  to  the  First 
Link,  which  is  supported  by  the  throne  of  the  Almighty." 
And  the  general  doctrine  which  this  comparison  illus- 
trates, if  it  illustrate  anything,  is  expressed  in  the  fol- 
lowing sentence :  "  Every  natural  cause  must  have  a 
cause,  until  we  ascend  to  the  First  Cause,  which  is  un- 
caused, and  which  operates  not  by  necessity,  but  by 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


187 


will."  Here  the  efficiency  of  natural  causes  seems  to 
be  distinctly  recognized,  and  the  writer  talks  like  Lord 
Verulam,  or  one  of  the  philosophers  of  olden  time. 
Were  he,  indeed,  the  advocate  of  the  intrinsic  power 
of  second  causes,  I  know  not  how  he  could  have  ex- 
pressed himself  with  more  clearness  and  precision.  We 
give  this  statement  not  so  much  to  show  the  inconsist- 
ency of  the  writer,  as  how  ready  men  are  to  relapse  into 
plain  common  sense  notions,  in  spite  of  their  philosophy, 
whenever  their  philosophy  departs  from  the  unbiased 
voice  of  nature.  The  most  wakeful  caution  is  seldom 
sufficient  to  protect  a  man  against  relapses  of  this  sort. 
It  is  not  to  be  doubted,  however,  that  Dr.  Reid,  notwith- 
standing these  occasional  aberrations  from  his  system, 
was  a  strenuous  advocate  for  the  new  theory,  namely, 
That  second  causes  have  no  power,  but  are  to  be  regarded 
as  the  mere  antecedents  or  signs  of  change,  the  efficiency 
never  being  in  them,  but  in  the  immediate  agency  of 
God.  The  only  exception  which  he  or  Professor  Stewart 
makes  to  this  sweeping  universality,  is  in  the  case  of 
voluntary  action,  where  they  suppose  the  mind  acts  as 
the  immediate  and  direct  efficient,  both  in  the  production 
of  volition  and  in  those  mental  and  bodily  changes  which 
instantly  follow  it.  Here,  they  say,  man  is  an  efficient 
cause.  In  every  other  case,  throughout  the  physical  and 
moral  world,  God  is  the  sole  efficient.  Do  you  ask  for  the 
proof  of  man's  efficiency  in  voluntary  action  ?  They  an- 
swer, our  own  consciousness ;  by  which  they  mean  that 
such  is  our  mental  constitution,  that  every  man  is  irre- 
sistibly led  to  refer  his  voluntary  actions  to  his  own 
inherent  powers,  and  to  regard  himself  as  the  only  true 
and  proper  efficient  in  the  case. 

But  here  Dr.  Reid  demurs,  not  being  quite  certain  of 
this.  We  are  certain  only,  he  says,  o£  our  volition,  and 
the  consequent  bodily  or  mental  change;  we  are  not 
certain  that  our  volition  was  the  efficient  cause  of  that 


188  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

change :  it  may  have  resulted  from  the  immediate  agency 
of  God. 

He  would  probably  limit  his  doctrine  of  creature  effi- 
ciency to  the  single  fact  of  volition,  and  contend  that  here, 
and  here  only,  have  we  evidence  that  man  is  truly  an 
agent,  or  an  efficient  cause.  But  why  this  solitary  ex- 
ception ?  The  theory  would  certainly  be  more  simple, 
and  perhaps  more  plausible,  without  it.  Why  not  go 
the  whole  length  with  Malebranche,  and  others  of  that 
school,  and  say  that  "  God  is  the  immediate  producer  of  all 
change,  of  all  absolutely  ;  and  every  event  in  the  universe 
is  at  once  accounted  for,  and  accounted  for  on  one  and 
the  same  principle  ?  But  neither  Reid  nor  Stewart  will 
for  a  moment  consent  to  this,  because  they  perceive  that 
such  a  doctrine  would  instantly  sweep  away  every  ves- 
tige of  created  power — that  is,  active  power — and  with  it, 
according  to  their  principles,  all  our  notions  of  moral 
responsibility.  They  did  well,  therefore,  to  pause  at  a 
point  which,  according  to  them,  threatened  to  overturn 
the  foundations  of  virtue,  and  to  set  men  loose  from  those 
ties  which  bind  them  as  moral  beings  to  one  another, 
and  to  the  throne  of  their  Creator. 

But  a  question  here  may  well  be  asked,  on  the  score 
of  consistency,  can  these  writers  deny  the  efficiency  of 
second  causes  in  the  physical  world,  and  maintain  it  in 
the  moral  ?  What  are  the  facts  in  the  case  ?  Why,  in 
both  worlds,  we  perceive  a  train  of  antecedents  and 
consequents,  a  train  alike  uniform  and  invariable,  and 
we  directly  perceive  nothing  more.  But  because  we 
cannot  persuade  ourselves  that  this  uniformity  and  inva- 
riableness  take  place  without  any  ground  or  reason,  we 
recognize  in  every  change  a  cause,  and  the  fact  of  its 
operation,  though  we  remain  profoundly  ignorant  of  the 
modus.  Nothing  is  seen  by  us  in  either  train,  but  the 
phenomena,  and  the  order  in  which  they  arise  •  and 
though  we  always  connect  with  them  two  things  which 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


189 


we  cannot  see,  viz.,  a  subject  of  the  phenomena  and 
power  to  produce  them,  yet  these  are  matters  of  inference, 
not  of  direct  observation.  But  we  see  just  as  much,  and 
infer  just  as  much,  in  relation  to  one  class  of  phenomena 
as  the  other. 

Let  it  be  farther  remarked,  that  there  is  in  the  human 
mind  a  sort  of  constitutional  propensity  to  refer  every 
change  to  its  immediate  and  invariable  antecedent  as 
its  cause,  and  to  do  this  as  readily  and  with  as  much 
confidence  in  changes  which  take  place  in  the  physical 
as  in  the  moral  world,  while  this  reference  always  car- 
ries with  it  a  belief  of  some  fitness  or  adaptation  in  the 
antecedent  to  be  the  cause.     We  may  not  know  what 
this  fitness  or  adaptation  is,  but  we  can  never  believe 
the  result  to  be  arbitrary;  for  why  this  result  rather 
than  another  ?  and  why  any  result  rather  than  none  at 
all  ?     From  the  very  constitution  of  our  minds,  we  are 
compelled  to  believe  that  there  was  some  ground  or 
reason  for  the  change,  and  for  the  change  being  as  it  is 
rather  than  otherwise.     On  this  principle  alone  is  it,  that 
we  always  expect  the  same  result,  where  all  the  previous 
circumstances  are  the  same.     Now,  if  I  regard  the  ante- 
cedent as  powerless,  in  a  train  of  physical  changes,  what 
reason  can  I  assign  for  its  not  being  equally  powerless 
in  a  train  which  is  moral  ?     Or,  if  I  allow  power  or 
causality  in  the  antecedent  to  changes  which  occur  in 
mind,  why  not  allow  it  in  the  antecedent  to  changes 
which  occur  in  matter  ?  or  which  is  the  same  thing,  if 
the  mental  or  moral  antecedent  be  an  efficient  cause, 
why  should  not  the  material  or  physical  antecedent  be 
so  likewise,  since,  to  our  observation,  there  is  no  differ- 
ence in  the  facts  and  circumstances  of  the  two  ?     In  both 
trains,  physical  and  moral,  there  is  the  same  uniformity 
and  invariableness  of  sequence,  the  same  belief  of  causa- 
tion attendant  on  every  change,  and  the  same  natural  or 
constitutional  propensity  to  refer  to  the  known  or  sup- 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

posed  antecedent,  as  the  efficient  cause  of  the  change. 
And  besides,  if  the  regular  antecedent,  in  both  cases,  be 
not  that  cause,  we  are  entirely  ignorant  of  what  is. 

But  it  may  be  said  that  matter  and  mind  are  widely 
different  substances,  possessed  of  entirely  different  quali- 
ties, and  therefore,  that  we  cannot  argue  from  one  to 
the  other  touching  the  question  of  their  efficiency.  Why 
not,  we  ask,  when  the  question  is  concerning  power,  or 
the  real  producer  of  change  ?  We  know  nothing  either 
of  matter  or  of  mind,  but  by  its  qualities;  and  we  judge 
of  both,  only  by  the  changes  which  they  seem  to  produce 
or  undergo ;  and  if  no  change  was  produced,  or  suffered 
by  them,  we  should  not  know  that  they  had  any  quali- 
ties, or  were  possessed  of  being.  To  know  the  powers 
of  matter,  therefore  (using  the  term  in  its  active  sense), 
is  simply  to  know  what  changes  it  produces,  or  is  fitted 
to  produce  ;  and  to  know  the  powers  of  mind,  or  whether 
it  has  any  power,  is  to  know  the  changes  it  causes  or 
effects.  If  it  cause  no  change,  it  has  no  power ;  and  the 
same  is  true  of  matter,  and  for  the  same  reason,  viz., 
that  to  have  power,  and  to  be  the  producer  of  change,  is 
only  one  and  the  same  thing.  Matter  and  mind,  then, 
for  aught  that  appears,  are  justly  comparable  in  this  par- 
ticular ;  for  if  power  belong  to  them  at  all,  it  must  neces- 
sarily be  indicated  by  the  changes  or  effects  which  they 
severally  produce.  This,  indeed,  narrows  the  ground  of 
comparison,  but  shows  at  the  same  time,  the  propriety 
of  Lmaking  it,  and  settles,  we  should  think,  the  question 
whether  they  have  an  equal  claim  to  power.  For  what 
is  the  language  of  fact  with  respect  to  the  actual  efficiency 
of  these  substances  ?  Is  it  true  that  matter  and  mind 
severally  produce  change  ?  matter  acting  upon  matter, 
and  mind  upon  mind,  and  both  mutually  affecting  each 
other  ?  They  certainly  appear  so  to  do ;  and  so  far  as 
observation  is  concerned,  they  furnish  precisely  the  same 
reason  to  believe  in  the  efficiency  of  the  one,  as  in  the 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


191 


efficiency  of  the  other.  We  believe  in  the  efficiency  of 
mind,  because,  to  our  apprehension,  one  mind  often  affects 
another,  while  it  produces  changes  in  itself,  and  in  that 
corporeal  system  with  which  it  is  mysteriously  united. 
When  I  convince  my  friend  of  an  error,  or  persuade  him 
to  a  right  action,  I  exert  an  influence  which  entitles  me 
to  consider  myself  as  a  cause,  in  relation  to  the  change 
produced  in  his  mind ;  not  immediately,  indeed,  but 
through  the  instrumentalities  I  employ.  But  the  same 
general  action  developes  a  process  in  my  own  mind, 
connected  with  a  change  in  my  bodily  powers.  I  did 
not  attempt  to  convince  or  persuade  my  friend,  till  I  had 
formed  the  purpose  of  so  doing;  this  purpose  was  a  volun- 
tary act,  or  determination  of  the  mind,  and  the  result  of 
consideration,  or  some  previous  state,  in  which  motives 
.were  brought  to  bear  upon  my  voluntary  powers  ;  and 
this  purpose  or  volition  was  more  immediately  or  remotely 
the  cause  of  some  corresponding  change  in  the  organs 
employed  in  expressing  my  thoughts.  Here,  then,  is 
mind  producing  a  change  in  itself,  or  more  properly,  one 
state  of  mind  producing  another  state  of  mind,  while  the 
latter  causes  a  change  in  the  organic  system,  or  bodily 
powers. 

True,  it  may  be  said,  but  here  is  a  voluntary  act,  which 
the  mind  is  conscious  of  performing  by  its  own  inherent 
powers.  Be  it  so.  But  was  not  this  act  performed  in 
the  view  of  motive,  and  under  its  exciting  and  com- 
manding influence  ?  Could  it  have  taken  place  without 
motive,  and  independent  of  motive  ?  All  experience 
will  say,  No.  At  the  same  time,  we  cheerfully  concede 
that  both  mind  and  motive  were  essential  to  volition,  and 
jointly  constituted  its  immediate  and  invariable  antece- 
dent, or  its  true  and  proper  cause.  Motive  alone,  if  w^e 
could  conceive  its  existence  possible,  would  have  been 
unavailing  without  mind  to  perceive  it,  and  to  be  suscep- 
tible of  its  influence ;  and  mind  alone  would  have  been 


192  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

equally  unavailing,  as  to  volition,  if  there  had  not  been 
a  motive  perceived,  which  was  adapted  to  the  suscepti- 
bility of  the  mind ;  and  if  the  mind  also  had  not  pos- 
sessed the  capacity  of  voluntary  exertion.  Taken 
together,  these  things  formed  the  previous  requisites  to 
volition,  and  so  far  as  we  can  perceive,  the  only  requi- 
sites. Thus  it  is  universally  ;  wherever  these  requisites 
exist,  volition  is  the  certain  consequence.  They  are  its 
efficient,  and  never-failing  cause.  Still  we  contend  that 
their  efficiency  is  not  more  evident  than  the  efficiency  of 
material  objects  around  us. 

It  is  not  more  certain  that  the  things  we  have  named 
are  the  cause  of  volition,  than  that  fire  is  the  cause  of 
the  sensation  of  heat — light  the  cause  of  vision,  or  im- 
pulse the  cause  of  motion.  We  ground  this  assertion 
upon  the  fact  that  these  physical  objects  are,  to  our 
apprehension,  as  truly  the  producers  of  change  in  the 
cases  specified,  as  any  antecedent  or  previous  requisites 
can  be,  in  the  case  of  volition ;  and  hence  it  is,  that  until 
the  mind  is  perverted  by  the  reasonings  of  a  dubious 
philosophy,  no  question  is  ever  made  as  to  the  efficiency 
of  natural  causes  in  the  material  world,  more  than  in  the 
spiritual. 

The  unbiased  voice  of  reason,  is  to  allow  causality 
in  the  regular  and  proximate  antecedent  of  any  change, 
or  in  what  is  supposed  to  be  the  antecedent ;  *  nor  does 
it  make  any  difference,  whether  the  antecedent  be  found 
in  matter,  or  in  mind.  If  it  be  found  in  matter,  I  take 
the  testimony  of  my  senses  in  the  case ;  if  it  be  found  in 
mind,  I  take  the  testimony  of  consciousness;  and  to 
both  I  am  compelled  by  my  constitution  to  yield  an 
implicit  faith.  I  can  no  more  doubt  when  I  thrust  my 
hand  into  the  fire,  that  it  is  the  fire  which  burns  me, 
than  I  can  doubt  the  reality  of  my  suffering,  or  the  con- 

*  See  note  A,  at  the  end  of  Lecture  0. 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


193 


sequent  will  or  desire  to  withdraw  my  hand ;  for  why 
do  I  will  to  withdraw  it,  but  because  I  believe  my  suf- 
ferings to  be  produced  by  the  fire  ?  I  see  a  piece  of 
wax  placed  in  the  flame  of  a  lighted  candle.  The  wax 
melts.  Can  I  doubt  what  melts  it  ?  Is  not  my  convic- 
tion as  intuitive,  and  as  unalterable,  that  this  change 
was  produced  by  the  flame,  as  that  my  sensation  of  heat 
was  caused  by  the  fire  ?  You  present  me  with  a  rose  ; 
I  perceive  its  variegated  colors,  and  am  regaled  with  its 
fragrance.  Here  are  two  perceptions — one  by  the  eye, 
one  by  the  organ  of  smelling.  What  do  I  believe  with 
respect  to  the  rose  ?  Certainly  that  it  is  something 
without,  and  that  it  affects  my  organs  of  vision  and 
smelling ;  or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  that  it  is  the  cause 
of  two  sensations,  the  sensation  of  color  and  of  fragrance. 
This  is  what  I  believe,  and  cannot  help  but  believe ;  and 
this  belief  I  truly  express,  when  I  say  /  see  the  rose — 1 
perceive  its  fragrance.  For  in  the  very  fact  of  perception, 
I  am  carried  to  the  belief  of  something  without,  and 
something  as  the  cause  of  my  perception.  This  fact 
will  be  noticed  more  particularly  hereafter,  and  I  advert 
to  it  now,  not  so  much  to  show  that  matter  has  efficiency 
no  less  truly  than  mind,  but  that  the  testimony  of  sense 
is  as  much  to  be  regarded  in  this  question,  as  the  testi- 
mony of  consciousness.  The  truth  is,  that  the  voice  of 
both  is  imperative,  and  that  whatever  may  be  the  princi- 
ples of  our  philosophy,  we  cannot  refuse  our  assent  to 
either.  In  the  very  language  we  employ,  and  in  the 
whole  conduct  of  life,  we  give  abundant  evidence  of  the 
reality  and  power  of  our  belief.  It  is  to  no  purpose, 
therefore,  to  allege,  that  mind  is  efficient  rather  than 
matter,  because  I  am  conscious  of  its  agency ;  and  from 
my  consciousness  am  compelled  to  believe  it  an  efficient 
cause ;  for,  with  equal  truth,  it  may  be  said  that  I  per- 
ceive the  efficiency  of  matter,  and  from  my  perception  am 
c  ompelled  to  believe  in  its  power  or  causality.  Percep 

13 


194  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

tion  and  consciousness  are  different  witnesses,  but  accord- 
ing to  an  established  law  of  our  nature,  they  are  regarded 
by  us  in  their  respective  spheres,  as  equally  competent 
and  equally  credible. 

Are  we  not  entitled  then  to  say,  that  a  system  of  phi- 
losophy which  maintains  the  efficiency  of  second  causes 
in  the  moral  world,  and  denies  it  in  the  physical,  is  in- 
consistent with  itself — since  what  it  affirms  has  no  greater 
evidence  of  truth  than  what  it  denies  ?  We  are  much 
deceived  as  to  the  facts  in  the  case,  or  an  impartial  exam- 
ination will  compel  us  to  adopt  one  of  these  propositions, 
either  that  second  causes  have  power  in  both  worlds,  physical 
and  moral,  or  that  they  have  power  in  neither.  The  latter 
proposition  was  embraced  by  Malebranche,  and  great  was 
his  labor  to  free  it  from  objection — but,  as  most  men 
believe,  with  very  little  success.  The  subject,  however, 
is  still  open  to  investigation,  and  we  inquire,  what  is 
truth  in  relation  to  it  ?  Is  God,  as  this  philosopher  sup- 
posed, the  only  efficient  cause  in  the  universe,  producing 
by  his  immediate  agency  all  the  changes  we  see  ?  or 
have  second  causes  power  to  produce  effects  by  an  effi- 
ciency properly  their  own — imparted  to  them,  indeed, 
by  their  almighty  Creator,  but  lodged  in  their  very  con- 
stitution, or  in  the  fact  of  their  existence  ?  A  ball  is 
seen  to  move  at  the  very  instant  it  receives  a  stroke 
from  my  hand.  The  inquiry  is,  what  moved  the  ball  ? 
Was  it  the  stroke  which  I  gave  it  ?  or  did  its  motion 
come  immediately  from  God  ?  If  I  advocate  the  effi- 
ciency of  second  causes,  I  must  make  the  former  suppo- 
sition. If  I  deny  their  efficiency,  I  must  take  the  latter, 
unless,  with  certain  mystical  philosophers,  I  attempt  to 
split  the  difference,  and  maintain  that  the  motion  of  the 
ball  was  produced  neither  by  the  stroke  separately,  nor 
yet  by  the  immediate  agency  of  God,  but  by  an  effi- 
ciency mysteriously  compounded  of  the  two.  At  some 
future  time,  we  may  perhaps  take  occasion  to  examine 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


195 


this  last-mentioned  theory,  which  includes  among  its 
advocates  men  distinguished  for  their  talents  and  their 
virtues.  At  present  we  confine  our  remarks  to  the  ques- 
tion :  Whether  God  be  the  only  efficient  in  the  universe  ? 
or  whether  second  causes  have  power  ?  This  I  take  to 
be  the  true  and  proper  alternative  in  the  case. 

First.  If  second  causes  have  no  power,  that  is,  if  they 
are  not  causes  per  se,  producing  effects  by  their  own 
inherent  energy,  as  truly  as  any  cause  can  be  supposed 
to  do,  why  have  they  gone  so  long  under  the  name  of 
causes  ?     Is  it  that  mankind  have  supposed  them  to  be 
the  regular  but  powerless  antecedents  of  change  ?  the 
mere   occasions  for  some  hidden  but  mighty  power  to 
operate  ?     Rather  is  it  not   certain  that  from  the  begin- 
ning of  the  world  they  have  been  regarded  as  truly  effi- 
cient in  the  changes  with  which  they  are  regularly  con- 
nected?    This  is  a  matter  of  historical  record,  as  our 
opponents  will  admit.     But  we  need  no  other  proof  of 
it,  than   the    very  structure    of  language.      Men  give 
names  as  the  signs,  or  symbols,  of  their  thoughts  ;  and 
hence  their  mode  of  thinking  cannot  fail  to  appear  from 
the  language  they  employ.     We  pretend  not  to  doubt 
that  men  have  always  believed  in  the  relation  of  cause 
and  effect,  inasmuch  as  we  find  in  every  language  under 
heaven,  many  words  expressive  of  this  relation.     Nor  do 
we  question  for  a  moment  their  firm  belief  in  an  exter- 
nal world,  since  this  belief  is  constantly  indicated  in  the 
words  they  employ.     By  the  same  mode  of  reasoning 
we  become  assured  that  the  early  and  steady  opinion  of 
mankind  has  been,  that  second  causes  are  efficient,  because 
this  notion  is  involved  in  the  very  first  principles  of  lan- 
guage, and  involved  as  extensively  as  the  fact  of  causa- 
tion itself.   You  cannot  open  a  page  in  any  book,  ancient 
or  modern,  without  perceiving  this  truth  written  as  with 
a  sunbeam.     Our  opponents  must  concede  to  us,  that 
that  would  be  a  strange  kind  of  language,  in  which 


196  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

should  be  found  no  such  words  as  cause,  effect,  produce,  occa- 
sion, create,  destroy,  nor  any  kindred  terms,  which,  like 
all  active  verbs,  are  expressive  of  an  action,  and  of  course 
of  an  agent,  whose  action  it  is.  They  cannot  but  perceive 
that  such  a  language  would  be  impossible  upon  the 
acknowledged  principles  and  laws  of  human  thought. 
But  we  ask,  if  it  is  not  equally  inconceivable,  and  equally 
impossible,  to  frame  a  language  which  should  recognize 
only  one  cause  or  agent  in  the  universe  ?  The  very 
attempt  would  run  so  counter  to  the  usual  habits  of 
thinking  and  speaking,  as  to  subject  a  man  to  the  most 
pointed  ridicule.  He  would  instantly  become  a  barba- 
rian to  others,  if  others  were  not  barbarians  to  him. 
From  this  cause  it  is,  that  those  who  have  professed  to 
deny  an  external  world,  have  been  obliged  to  talk  and  write 
like  other  men.  They  could  not  otherwise  have  made 
themselves  understood,  nor  avoided  the  sneer  which  a 
language  conformable  to  their  avowed  opinions  would 
have  occasioned.  The  same  is  true  of  those  who,  like 
David  Hume,  deny  any  such  thing  as  cause  and  effect,  in 
the  common  and  appropriate  sense  of  these  terms.  They 
are  obliged  to  talk  and  to  act  like  other  men — that  is, 
just  as  if  they  believed  what  others  believe,  that  cause 
and  effect  mark  a  relation  not  of  priority  and  subsequence 
only,  but  of  productive  power  or  efficiency.  Let  them 
shape  their  language  to  their  philosophy,  and  they  could 
not  make  out  a  single  page  intelligible  to  themselves  or 
to  others.  Nor  is  the  case  at  all  different  with  those 
who  deny  the  efficiency  of  second  causes ;  they  are  obliged 
to  use  a  language,  and  to  pursue  a  course,  which  is  every 
moment  at  war  with  their  hypothesis.  They  must  speak 
of  themselves,  and  of  others,  as  agents,  and  not  as  mere 
events  or  effects — of  the  changes  which  occur  in  the  physi- 
cal and  moral  world,  as  produced  by  their  appropriate 
causes,  that  is,  by  their  regular  antecedents,  which  by 
common  consent  are  regarded  as  the  real  producers  of 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


197 


change  ;  and  which  they  themselves  must  so  regard,  in 
their  language  at  least,  or  become  both  unintelligible  and 
ridiculous. 

Does  this  afford  no  presumption  that  second  causes 
have  power  ?  Why  the  impression,  so  early,  so  deep,  so 
universal,  so  hard  to  be  eradicated,  and  returning  at  every 
moment  with  all  its  force,  even  in  those  who  have  pro- 
fessed theoretically  to  cast  it  off?  That  it  is  an  impres- 
sion of  this  character  is  most  evident,  from  the  influence 
it  has  had  in  modifying  every  language  in  the  known 
world,  and  from  the  difficulty,  may  I  not  say  from  the 
impossibility,  of  framing  a  language  upon  any  other  prin- 
ciples. But  at  this  very  point  we  may  be  told  that  this 
deep-rooted  and  common  belief  is  of  no  weight  in  the 
argument — that  there  are  many  such  beliefs  and  impres- 
sions which  every  scientific  man  will  admit  to  be  unfound- 
ed— and  yet  their  influence  in  the  structure  of  language 
cannot  be  denied.  The  vulgar  have  no  correct  opinions 
of  the  figure  and  motion  of  the  earth,  nor  of  the  mag- 
nitude and  distance  of  the  sun,  nor  of  many  other  physi- 
cal facts,  the  nature  of  which  they  judge  of  from  the  re- 
port of  their  senses.  If  they  may  be  deceived  in  these 
cases,  why  not  in  others  1  Who  knows  but  their  belief 
of  cause  and  effect,  and  of  the  influence  of  second 
causes  in  particular,  may  not  be  as  illusory  as  their  belief 
of  the  figure  of  the  earth,  or  the  size  and  distance  of  the 
sun  ? 

Our  answer  is  this :  the  light  of  science  has  detected 
an  error  in  the  one  case,  but  is  not  able  to  do  it  in  the 
other.  You  may  prove  to  a  man  by  unanswerable  argu- 
ments, that  the  earth  is  not  a  plane,  as  he  has  supposed, 
and  that  the  sun  is  a  much  greater  body,  and  at  a  dis- 
tance vastly  more  remote,  than  he  ever  imagined ;  but 
can  you  prove  to  him  that  fire  does  not  fuse  metals,  nor 
wrater  melt  salt  ?  that  light  is  not  the  cause  of  vision  to 


198  °N    SECOND    CAUSES. 

the  healthful  eye  ?  nor  wringing  a  man's  nose  the  cause 
of  its  spouting  blood  ? 

Besides,  when  the  vulgar  are  deceived  in  the  cases 
above  mentioned,  what  is  it  that  deceives  them  ?  Is  it 
believing  the  report  of  their  senses  ?  and  are  they  unde- 
ceived at  last  by  rejecting  that  report  ?  Nothing  can  be 
wider  from  the  fact.  Their  senses  have  not  reported 
falsely,  nor  have  they  fallen  into  error  by  receiving  that 
report,  and  receiving  it  with  the  most  unqualified  confi- 
dence— a  thing,  by  the  way,  which  no  man  can  help. 
Their  error  originated  in  an  entirely  different  source — in 
the  inferences  they  drew  from  the  natural  appearances 
of  objects.  These  appearances  were  correctly  reported, 
so  far  as  the  senses  simply  were  concerned ;  or  rather 
these  appearances  are  nothing  different  from  the  report 
of  sense,  and  are,  in  all  cases  doubtless,  the  same  to  the 
philosopher  and  to  the  peasant.  The  aspect  of  the  sun, 
for  instance,  is  not  different  to  the  eye  of  the  one,  from 
what  it  is  to  the  eye  of  the  other,  but  the  difference  lies 
in  their  individual  and  separate  conclusions.  And  where- 
fore this  difference  ?  Not  because  the  philosopher  ques- 
tions the  testimony  of  sense,  for  that  he  cannot  do ;  but 
because  he  compares  this  testimony  in  different  cases  and 
circumstances,  and  comes  to  a  conclusion  which  the  com- 
parison, in  his  judgment,  authorizes.*  He  believes  in 
natural  appearances  as  much  as  the  vulgar,  and  his  sensi- 
tive impressions  are  in  no  respect  different  from  theirs. 
Were  it  not  thus,  he  would  have  no  means  of  detecting 
erroneous  conclusions  concerning  outward  objects,  whe- 
ther made  by  himself  or  by  others.  This  is  too  obvious  to 
require  farther  elucidation,  and  therefore  we  remark  that 
it  is  not  difficult  to  distinguish  between  what  are  some- 
times called  illusions  of  the  senses,  or  more  properly,  incor- 
rect inferences  from  the  testimony  of  sense,  and  those  common- 
sense  notions,  or  primary  beliefs,  which  no  man  can  shake 

*  Beattie  on  Truth.    Part  I. 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


199 


off,  if  he  would.  The  former  admit  of  correction,  from 
new  observation,  or  from  careful  comparison  of  various 
observations,  whether  in  relation  to  the  same  or  different 
objects.  The  latter  remain  firm  and  unalterable,  what- 
ever pains  may  be  taken  to  annihilate  or  modify  them. 
Place  their  objects  in  what  light  you  will,  raise  your 
doubts,  and  bring  forth  your  strong  reasons,  still  nature 
is  true  to  her  purpose,  and  these  instinctive  principles 
maintain  their  ground.  Now,  what  we  contend  is,  that 
a  belief  in  the  efficiency  of  second  causes  is  one  of  these 
principles.  It  is  early,  deep,  universal,  and  incapable  of 
being  eradicated — just  as  really  and  truly  as  the  belief  of 
causation,  and  of  an  external  world.  Men  can  be  found, 
indeed,  who  deny  them  all ;  but  do  they  not  contradict 
the  voice  of  nature,  if  that  voice  can  be  learned  from 
the  sentiments  of  mankind  in  all  ages  and  nations  ? 
Nay,  do  they  not  contradict  the  inward  convictions  of 
their  own  minds,  if  their  actions  can  be  taken  as  a  true 
index  of  their  convictions  ? 

That  fire  fuses  metals,  and  water  melts  salt,  are  facts, 
we  have  said,  which  no  man  can  disprove  ;  but  are  we 
not  entitled  to  say,  that  they  are  facts  which  every  man, 
from  the  very  constitution  of  his  mind,  is  compelled  to 
believe  ?  Can  he  any  more  doubt,  that  it  is  a  quality  of 
fire  to  fuse  metals,  and  of  water  to  melt  salt,  than  he 
can  doubt  the  existence  of  the  substances  of  which  these 
qualities  are  predicated  ?  But  Berkeley,  it  may  be  said, 
doubted  both ;  he  believed  in  no  material  substances  or 
qualities,  nor  in  anything  which  may  be  denominated  an 
external  world.  True,  such  was  his  theory ;  but  what 
was  his  practice  ?  Did  he  act  upon  his  own  principles  ? 
His  philosophy  said  there  was  no  external  world ;  that 
what  we  call  sensible  things  are  merely  our  own  sensa- 
tions, produced  by  no  external  object,  but  by  the  imme- 
diate agency  of  God.  But  did  he  believe  this  when  he 
attempted  to  argue  with  his  fellow-men,  whom  he  must 


200  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

have  considered  as  existing  without,  while  yet  he, had 
no  greater  evidence  of  their  existence  than  of  other 
physical  objects  around  him,  and  no  evidence  at  all,  but 
upon  the  testimony  of  sense. 

Into  a  like  inconsistency  do  they  fall,  who  deny  the 
efficiency  of  second  causes ;  for,  while  they  profess  to 
regard  them  as  powerless,  they  act  towards  them  every 
moment  as  if  they  believed  them  possessed  of  an  inhe- 
rent and  unremitting  energy. 

The  whole  of  the  preceding  argument  goes  upon  the 
principle  that  the  efficiency  of  second  causes  is  a  common- 
sense  notion,  deeply  engraven  upon  the  human  mind,  and 
showing  itself  in  the  very  structure  of  language,  not  only 
in  modifying  some  of  its  less  essential  forms,  but  in  giving 
birth  to  first  principles,  and  shaping  the  very  ground- 
work. Nor  can  we  readily  be  persuaded  that  a  senti- 
ment at  once  so  radical  and  universal  can  be  accounted 
for,  but  by  supposing  it  a  dictate  of  nature,  the  result  of 
that  reason  and  common  understanding  which  God  has 
bestowed  upon  mankind. 

[NOTE  A.]  The  sentiment  advanced  in  this  place,  and  in  other  parts  of  the 
Lecture  is,  that  whatever  is  regarded  as  the  regular  antecedent  of  any  change,  is 
instantly  recognized  by  the  mind  as  the  efficient  cause  of  the  change ;  and  that  this 
is  the  unbiased  voice  of  reason,  or  the  dictate  of  common  sense,  from  which 
there  lies  no  appeal.  If  this  statement  be  correct,  it  cannot  fail  to  be  perceived, 
that  the  efficiency  of  second  causes  is  placed  on  as  firm  a  basis  as  the  doctrine  of 
cause  and  eifect,  or  the  fact  of  an  external  world.  To  this  statement,  however, 
it  has  been  objected  that  the  supposed  antecedent  is  not  always  the  real  antecedent; 
of  course,  that  the  mind  is  sometimes  mistaken  in  its  reference,  regarding  that  as 
the  proximate  cause  which,  in  fact,  is  not  that  cause.  Will  not  this  abate  our  con- 
fidence in  the  argument  for  the  efficiency  of  second  causes,  drawn  from  the  common 
and  prevailing  sentiment,  that  the  known  or  supposed  antecedent  is  truly  an  effi- 
cient cause  ?  If  the  mind  may  mistake  in  its  reference  in  one  case,  why  not  in 
another  ?  if  it  does  not  intuitively  and  universally  detect  the  true  efficient  in  the 
case,  how  can  we  be  sure  that  its  dictates  are  not  wholly  fallacious  ? 

Our  reply  is,  that  though  the  mind  may  mistake  as  to  the  proximate  cause  of  a 
change,  it  does  not  thence  follow,  that  it  mistakes  as  to  the  efficiency  of  the  cause 
to  which  the  change  is  referred.  The  mistake  lies  in  the  proximity  of  the  cause  to 
the  eifect,  not  in  the  productive  power  of  the  cause,  to  which  the  effect  is  attributed. 
The  common  opinion  is,  that  fire  fuses  metals,  and  water  melts  salt ;  but  suppose 
it  was  ascertained  that  these  substances  produce  their  respective  results  through 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES.  201 

the  intervention  of  a  medium  or  principle  not  heretofore  discovered  ?  Their  powers 
would  not  be  less  real,  but  their  agency  would  be  less  immediate  than  is  now 
generally  supposed. 

Or  take  another  example.  Every  man  believes  that  his  will  is  concerned  as  a 
cause  in  the  free  and  unconstrained  motion  of  his  hand.  He  considers  the  muscles  of 
this  organ  as  obedient  to  his  will,  and  subjected  to  his  control.  Nor  is  his  belief, 
as  to  the  efficiency  of  his  will,  in  any  measure  altered,  when  he  learns  that  the 
affection  of  the  nerves  connected  with  the  organ  constitutes  another  link  in  the 
chain.  According  to  his  first  impression,  his  volition  was  the  immediate  antecedent 
to  the  contraction  of  the  muscles  which  give  motion  to  the  hand.  Now  he  finds 
the  affection  of  the  nerves  as  prior  to  that  contraction,  and  necessary  to  its  occur- 
rence. But  though  the  train  is  lengthened,  the  causes  concerned  are  not  less  effi- 
cient, nor  does  he  ascribe  less  power  to  his  will. 


LECTURE    VII. 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


ARE  SECOND  CAUSES  EFFICIENT  CAUSES  1 

IN  the  preceding  Lecture,  we  adverted  to  the  different 
answers  which  had  been  given  to  this  question;  and 
stated  that  before  the  time  of  Descartes,  all  mankind, 
both  learned  and  unlearned,  believed  second  causes  to 
be  efficient,  producing  the  changes  which  they  seem  to 
produce — that  since  that  period,  many  philosophers  have 
professed  to  regard  them  as  powerless,  and  the  mere  ante- 
cedents or  signs  of  change. 

We  examined,  at  some  length,  the  opinion  of  Dr.  Reid 
and  Professor  Stewart,  who  maintain  the  efficiency  of 
second  causes  in  the  moral,  but  deny  it  in  the  physical 
world.  We  attempted  to  show  that  their  doctrine  was 
unsupported  by  facts,  and  incompatible  with  itself;  and 
that,  to  be  consistent  on  this  subject,  we  must  adopt  one 
of  two  propositions,  either  that  second  causes  have  power 
in  both  worlds,  or  in  neither  world ;  or,  which  comes  to 
the  same  thing,  either  that  God  is  the  only  efficient  cause 
in  the  universe — producing  by  his  immediate  agency  all 
the  changes  we  see — or  that  second  causes  have  power, 
and  as  truly  in  matter  as  in  mind. 

We  adopted  the  latter  proposition,  and  alleged  in 
favor  of  it  the  well-known  fact  that  mankind,  from  the 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES.  203 

earliest  records  of  time,  have  steadily  acted  under  the 
full  conviction  of  its  truth.  The  very  structure  of  lan- 
guage, aside  from  historical  testimony,  we  considered  as 
an  unanswerable  proof  of  such  conviction.  In  short,  that 
so  deep  and  radical  is  this  sentiment — so  completely  in- 
wrought in  the  very  first  principles  of  language — that  no 
man  can  make  himself  understood  without  employing 
terms  which  fully  involve  it.  From  this  important  fact 
we  deduced  the  inference,  that  the  efficiency  of  second 
causes  has  a  strong  claim  to  be  considered  a  common  sense 
notion,  not  unlike  the  general  notion  of  cause  and  effect, 
or  the  belief  of  an  external  world. 

Second.  We  remark  now,  that  it  seems  difficult  to  con- 
ceive how  men  should  ever  arrive  at  the  notion  of  cause 
and  effect  as  an  abstract  relation,  or  at  the  belief  of  any- 
thing without  them,  or  besides  them,  unless  they  went 
upon  the  principle  that  second  causes  have  power.  For  if 
these  notions  are  not  born  with  them,  nor  communicated 
by  special  revelation,  (neither  of  which  will  be  pretend- 
ed,) they  must  be  acquired  in  the  exercise  of  the  mental 
faculties,  either  with  or  without  the  aid  of  the  bodily 
powers.  So  far  as  I  know,  it  is  an  admitted  fact  that  the 
notion  of  a  cause  first  arises  in  the  mind  on  observing 
some  change,  and  remarking  the  circumstances  in  which 
this  change  has  occurred. 

That  we  require  the  idea  of  antecedent  and  consequent 
in  this  way,  and  of  the  more  general  relation  of  regular 
antecedence  and  of  regular  consequence,  seems  tojadmit 
of  no  doubt.  Nor  will  it  be  questioned,  I  suppose,  that 
the  idea  of  particular  antecedence  is  obtained  before  the 
idea  of  general  or  uniform  antecedence.  Why  should 
not  all  this  be  true,  with  respect  to  cause  and  effect  ? 
Can  it  be  believed  that  men  have  the  abstract  notion  of 
cause,  and  that  no  effect  can  take  place  without  a  cause, 
before  they  have  learned  what  a  cause  is,  through  the 
medium  of  some  change  in  a  particular  case  ?  or,  which 


204  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

amounts  to  the  same  thing,  before  some  change,  and  the 
circumstances  in  which  it  occurs,  have  suggested  to  them 
the  idea  of  a  cause,  and  of  a  particular  cause  ?  Do  we 
go  from  particulars  to  generals,  or  from  generals  to  partic- 
ulars ?  We  can  be  at  no  loss  which  is  the  more  natural 
of  our  thoughts. 

Let  us  suppose  a  newly  born  infant  whose  first  sensa- 
tion is  some  bodily  pain.  Does  he  ascribe  this  pain  to  a 
cause  ?  There  is  not  the  remotest  ground  to  believe 
that  he  has  the  least  idea  of  cause.  He  knows  not, 
perhaps,  that  he  has  a  body,  or  that  anything  besides 
himself  exists ;  and  some  might  even  doubt  if  he  had  re- 
flection enough  to  carry  him  to  the  knowledge  of  his 
own  being.  Be  this  as  it  may ;  as  his  faculties  develope 
and  he  becomes  capable  of  observing  the  changes  within 
and  without  him,  and  at  the  same  time  of  remarking  the 
circumstances  in  which  they  arise,  it  is  easy  to  see  how 
he  may  acquire  the  notion  of  a  cause.  He  puts  his  hand 
into  the  flame  of  a  candle,  and  instantly  experiences  a 
painful  sensation.  If  not  at  first,  after  a  few  trials  he 
learns  the  cause  of  his  sufferings,  and  cannot  be  induced 
to  repeat  the  experiment.  I  say  he  learns  the  cause  of 
his  sufferings,  by  learning  from  the  circumstances  of  the 
case  that  they  were  produced  by  the  flame  of  the  candle. 
But  is  not  this  saying  too  much  ?  Perhaps  it  is  only  the 
occasion  of  his  sufferings  that  he  learns.  He  perceives 
nothing  more,  it  may  be  said,  and  he  infers  nothing 
more  than  the  simple  conjunction  of  two  events — his  con- 
tact with  the  candle,  and  his  sensation  of  pain.  Then  it 
is  certain  he  has  not  yet  arrived  at  the  knowledge  or 
conception  of  a  cause,  nor  is  it  easy  to  see  how  he  ever 
can.  He  perceives  a  connection  in  time  and  place  be- 
tween two  events ;  but  if  he  does  not  perceive  nor  infer 
a  causal  connection,  he  must  regard  the  one  as  the  mere 
antecedent  or  sign  of  the  other,  and  has  no  idea  of 
causality  in  the  case.  Is  it  not,  however,  demonstrably 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES.  205 

certain  that  the  little  reasoner  carries  his  thoughts  much 
farther  ?  He  verily  believes  the  candle  to  be  the  cause 
of  his  sufferings,  and  therefore  ascribes  to  it,  in  his  im- 
agination at  least,  qualities  which  correspond  to  this 
belief.  If  it  were  not  so,  how  could  he  learn  the  qualities 
of  the  candle  ?  or  why  should  he  ever  suspect  it  to  have 
any  qualities  ?  The  fact  of  his  belief  we  take  to  be 
unquestionable  ;  and  the  amount  of  it  is,  that  his  suffer- 
ings were  produced  by  the  flame  of  the  candle,  and  that 
they  will  return  if  he  apply  his  hand  as  before.  Now 
what  is  this  but  bringing  him  to  the  knowledge  of  a 
cause,  and  of  a  particular  cause  ? — from  which,  in  similar 
circumstances,  he  is  led  to  expect  a  similar  result. 

Will  you  say  that  he  is  mistaken  in  his  reference,  and 
that  the  true  cause  is  not  discovered  by  him  ?  Whether 
it  be  so  or  not,  he  has  acquired  the  notion  of  a  cause, 
and  in  the  present  case  is  fixed  in  his  belief  what  the 
cause  is,  and  regulates  his  conduct  accordingly. 

In  a  manner  correspondent  with  this,  there  is  reason 
to  believe  that  all  men  acquire  the  notion  of  a  cause. 
They  are  led  to  this  conception  by  observing  some  change 
in  themselves,  or  in  the  objects  around  them,  and  by 
noticing  the  circumstances  in  which  this  change  has 
occurred.  That  it  did  not  occur  in  other  circumstances, 
and  did  occur  in  these,  suggests  the  idea  of  their  influ- 
ence or  agency  in  the  case.  To  these,  therefore,  the 
mind  refers  as  the  immediate  antecedent  and  cause  of 
the  change.  But  why  this  reference,  it  may  be  said, 
unless  some  general  notion  of  a  cause  had  been  previ- 
ously obtained  ?  I  answer,  this  reference  is  nothing  but 
an  act  of  induction,  or  inferential  reasoning,  from  the 
facts  in  the  case ;  it  is  the  judgment  which  the  mind 
forms  in  view  of  all  the  circumstances,  and  is  neither 
more  nor  less  than  a  dictate  of  common  sense.  A  cause 
is  that  which  does  something.  Is  it  strange  that  this  notion 
should  arise  in  the  mind,  when  something  is  seen  to  be 


206  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

done  ?  Far  more  strange,  would  it  be,  if  this  were  not 
the  fact,  since  even  the  brute  creation  acquire  the  notion 
of  a  cause  in  similar  circumstances.  We  speak  not 
without  reflection.  It  is  an  admitted  fact,  that  brutes 
never  rise  to  abstract  conceptions,  or  conclusions  at  all ; 
or  if  they  do  this,  it  is  only  in  the  very  humblest  degree. 
But  that  they  have  the  notion  of  particular  causes,  and 
that  this  notion  is  acquired  by  experience  and  observa- 
tion, is  just  as  certain,  as  that  the  cur  trembles  before  the 
uplifted  lash,  which  has  just  been  buried  in  his  skin,  or 
that  he  often  turns  upon  the  man  who  inflicts  an  injury 
upon  himself  or  his  master.  To  say  that  it  is  only  the 
occasion,  and  not  the  cause  of  their  sufferings,  that  ani- 
mals learn  by  their  experience,  is  not  only  to  beg  the 
question  in  debate,  but  is  utterly  irreconcilable  with  the 
clear  indications  which  they  give,  both  of  their  gratitude 
and  their  resentment. 

Shall  we  allow  experience  and  observation,  then,  to 
teach  the  animal  what  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  can 
ever  teach  man,  the  notion  of  a  cause.  That  the  one,  in 
the  exercise  of  his  humble  faculties,  acquires  a  know- 
ledge, which  the  other,  with  his  superior  endowments, 
can  never  acquire,  unless  by  a  teaching  which  is  prior  to 
experience,  and  altogether  transcends  it  ?  True  philoso- 
phy can  never  be  driven  to  such  shifts. 

Assuming,  therefore,  what  we  consider  in  no  degree 
doubtful,  that  men  acquire  the  notion  of  a  cause  through 
the  medium  of  some  observed  change,  in  the  manner 
above  stated,  and  we  derive  an  argument  in  favor  of  the 
fact,  that  the  efficiency  of  second  causes  is  a  common- 
sense  notion,  deeply  seated  in  the  mind  of  man.  How 
can  it  be  otherwise,  if  the  very  notion  of  a  cause  is 
acquired  in  view  of  some  change  ?  and  if  this  notion, 
when  it  first  arises  in  the  mind,  is  always  connected 
with  some  particular  cause,  to  which  the  mind  refers  as 
the  immediate  antecedent,  and  the  real  producer  of  the 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


207 


change  ?  For  what  is  this  antecedent,  this  particular 
cause,  but  something  which  we  denominate  a  secondary 
cause  ?  and  what  the  reference  which  the  mind  makes  to 
it,  but  a  belief  of  its  efficiency  ?  To  say  that  this  refer- 
ence is  an  error,  and  always  an  error,  (and  the  objection 
would  be  nothing  without  this,)  is  to  say,  thatfrom  the 
constitution  of  our  minds  we  are  under  the  necessity  of 
believing  a  falsehood,  as  the  only  means  of  coming  at  the 
truth — that  is,  we  must  believe  in  the  efficiency  of  some 
particular  cause,  or  we  should  never  get  the  notion  of  a 
cause,  nor  rise  to  the  abstract  conception,  that  no  effect 
can  take  place  without  a  cause.  We  cannot  pursue  this 
subject,  or  it  might,  as  we  think,  easily  be  made  to 
appear,  that  as  the  idea  of  causation  is  introduced  into 
the  mind  by  the  agency  of  some  secondary  cause,  so 
without  that  agency,  and  the  fact  of  its  belief,  the  mind 
would  never  acquire  the  idea  of  any  cause,  supreme  or 
subordinate,  unless  imparted  by  special  revelation. 

To  suppose,  as  some  have  done,  that  anterior  to  all  expe- 
rience and  observation,  the  mind  is  somehow  possessed 
of  the  notion  of  cause  and  effect,  as  a  general  and  abstract 
relation,  is,  in  our  judgment,  beginning  at  the  wrong  end, 
as   it   supposes  knowledge  in  a  given  case — general  and 
abstract  knowledge,  previous  to  the  appropriate  exercise 
of  our  faculties,  and  independent  of  that  exercise.    That 
is  to  say,  it  supposes  general  and  abstract  notions,  on  a 
subject  where  the  mind  has  never  generalized  or  exer- 
cised its  powers  of  abstraction  at  all.    All  analogy,  surely, 
goes  against  this.     But  if  it  did  not,  and  we  were  com- 
pelled to  admit  that,  prior  to  experience,  we  possess  the 
abstract  notion  of  cause  and  effect,  and  that  no  effect  can 
take  place  without  a  cause ;   still  it  is  manifest  that  our 
knowledge  of  particular  causes,  and  our  belief  of  their 
efficiency  in  any  given  circumstances,  is  exclusively  the 
result  of  experience  and  observation.     This  Dr.  Brown 
has  shown  in  the  most  unanswerable   manner,  at  the 


208  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

same  time  that  he  has  demonstrated,  that  without  the 
knowledge  and  belief  of  particular  causes,  in  the  physical 
changes  within  and  around  us,  we  could  never  rise  to 
the  knowledge  of  the  Great  First  Cause,  on  which  all 
other  causes  depend. 

That  this  First  Cause  is  only  one  among  many  which 
may  be  supposed,  is  most  certain  ;  and  that  men  are  not 
born  with  the  knowledge  and  belief  of  it  is  equally  cer- 
tain ;  for  the  deaf  and  dumb  have  no  such  knowledge 
and  belief,  even  after  their  faculties  have  come  to  matu- 
rity. If  men  come  to  the  knowledge  of  God,  then,  it 
must  be  in  one  of  two  ways — either  by  a  process  of 
inductive  reasoning,  or  by  special  revelation.  If  by 
the  former,  they  must  go  from  effect  to  cause,  and  that 
by  steps  more  or  less  numerous,  till  they  arrive  at  a  pri- 
mary Cause,  the  source  of  all  other  causes.  But  how 
shall  this  process  begin,  if  among  the  many  antecedents 
to  the  many  changes  they  witness,  they  recognize  no 
particular  cause  ?  Will  it  be  said  that  the  mind  natu- 
rally passes  at  once  from  some  change  it  has  observed 
to  the  Great  First  Cause,  as  the  immediate  Author 
and  Producer  of  it  ?  or,  after  searching  in  vain  for  an 
adequate  cause,  ultimately  fastens  on  him  ?  This  would 
be  a  surprising  leap  for  the  human  faculties,  and  utterly 
incredible  if  there  were  no  proofs  against  it ;  but  the 
case  of  the  deaf  and  dumb  just  alluded  to,  settles  the 
question,  in  our  apprehension,  that  no  such  thing  is 
done,  or  can  be  done,  by  the  human  mind ;  nay,  far- 
ther, that  this  is  a  point  never  reached  by  an  insulated 
mind,  whatever  may  be  the  strength  of  its  faculties,  or 
whatever  its  belief  with  respect  to  the  efficiency  of 
second  causes.  The  only  probable,  and  as  we  think,  the 
only  possible  method  of  coming  to  the  knowledge  of 
God,  by  a  process  of  reasoning,  is  by  allowing  second  causes 
to  have  power,  and  to  be  the  real  producers  of  changes 
which  they  apparently  produce.  This  settles,  on  a  firm 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES.  209 

basis,  the  fact  of  causation,  and  enables  the  mind  to  pro- 
ceed, on  the  principle  of  induction,  from  cause  to  cause, 
through  a  series  of  causes,  severally  the  effect  of  some 
antecedent  one,  till  it  reaches  a  cause  which  is  underived, 
independent  and  eternal.  Or  if  the  argument  for  the  Di- 
vine existence  turn  upon  design,  manifested  in  the  physi- 
cal objects  around  us,  how  is  this  design  to  be  shown, 
but  by  showing  that  these  objects  display  a  fitness  or 
adaptation  of  means  to  an  end  ?  But  can  there  be  a  fit- 
ness or  adaptation  of  means,  where  there  is  no  tendency  ? 
or  any  tendency  where  there  is  no  power  ? 

If  second  causes  do  nothing  they  are  fitted  to  do  no- 
thing ;  a  denial  of  their  power  is  a  denial  of  their  fit- 
ness ;  and  where  there  is  no  fitness,  but  all  is  arbitrary, 
he  must  be  sharpsighted  indeed,  who  can  discern  either 
wisdom  or  design. 

Third.  Farther,  that  second  causes  are  truly  efficient,  we 
argue  from  what  is  involved  in  the  doctrine  of  perception. 
We  glanced  at  this  topic  in  the  preceding  Lecture,  but  it 
is  a  point  of  too  much  importance  not  to  be  distinctly 
considered. 

What  is  perception  ?  According  to  modern  and  ap- 
proved writers,  it  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  ref- 
erence we  make  to  something  external  as  their  cause. 
Reid,  Stewart  and  Payne,  agree  in  this  general  statement. 
A  rose  is  presented,  and  I  perceive  its  fragrance — or,  in 
other  words,  I  have  a  certain  agreeable  sensation,  which 
I  refer  to  the  rose  as  its  cause.  "  Observing/'  says  Dr. 
Reid,  "  that  the  agreeable  sensation  is  raised  when  the 
rose  is  near,  and  ceases  when  it  is  removed,  I  am  led  by 
my  nature  to  conclude  some  quality  to  be  in  the  rose, 
which  is  the  cause  of  this  sensation."  And  Mr.  Payne, 
speaking  of  the  sensation  of  fragrance  excited  by  a  rose, 
says  :  "  We  refer  the  agreeable  feeling  to  the  rose  as  its 
cause  ;  the  reference  is  different  from  the  feeling  itself — 
and  different  from  the  object,  or  the  rose — and  the  prin- 
14 


210 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


ciple  of  the  mind  from  which  this  reference  results,  is 
the  same  general  principle,  whatever  that  may  be,  which 
enables  us  to  draw  conclusions  in  other  cases ;"  that  is, 
as  I  understand  him,  the  reference  of  which  he  speaks 
is  nothing  different  from  an  act  of  inductive  reasoning 
from  the  facts  in  the  case. 

Am  I  led,  then,  by  my  very  nature,  to  conclude  that 
there  is  some  quality  in  the  rose,  and  that  this  quality  is 
the  cause  of  my  agreeable  sensation  ?  then  I  am  com- 
pelled, by  my  very  constitution,  to  assign  a  quality  to  the 
rose,  and  to  regard  that  quality  as  the  cause  of  my  sen- 
sation. In  other  words,  I  am  compelled  to  believe  that 
the  rose  does  something,  or  acts  as  a  cause.  Here,  then, 
let  me  say,  is  one  secondary  cause  at  least,  and  that  in 
the  physical  world,  which  is  admitted  to  be  truly  efficient, 
if  to  do  something  and  to  be  efficient  are  not  terms  of  radi- 
cally different  import. 

What  is  true  of  the  rose  is  true  of  every  other  object 
of  perception,  or  of  the  whole  external  world. 

There  is  no  one  object  of  sense  which  does  not  affect 
us.  This  affection  we  call  a  sensation,  and  this  sensation 
we  refer  to  something  without  as  its  cause.  And  here 
let  it  be  remarked,  that  we  have  precisely  the  same  be- 
lief that  something  without  affects  us,  as  we  have  that 
there  is  something  without.  The  latter  belief  depends 
on,  or  rather  is  included  in,  the  former.  For  how  came 
we  to  know  or  to  suspect  that  there  is  something  without, 
but  by  supposing  or  believing  that  we  are  affected  by 
it,  or  that  it  is  the  cause  of  our  sensations.  If  our  belief 
does  not  go  to  this,  tell  us  where  it  stops.  Does  it  stop 
with  the  mere  fact  that  we  are  affected,  and  that  there 
is  a  cause  of  this  affection  ?  Then  it  does  not  go  to  an 
external  world  at  all.  It  amounts  to  nothing  more  than  a 
sensation,  and  its  cause,  without  deciding  what  that  cause 
is,  something  within  or  something  without.  But  is  this  the 
testimony  of  sense,  and  this  our  belief  of  that  testimony  ? 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


211 


Then,  in  truth,  we  have  no  evidence  of  an  external  world, 
and  matter,  for  aught  we  know,  is  a  mere  figment  of  the 
mind.  We  cannot  avoid  this  conclusion,  but  by  admit- 
ting that  our  belief  of  something  without,  is  inseparably 
connected  with  a  belief  that  that  something  affects  us, 
which  is  giving  to  it  all  the  efficiency  we  plead  for. 

But  what  if  I  am  unwilling  to  allow  that  something 
without  really  affects  me  ?  The  answer  is  at  hand — it 
alters  not  the  fact,  nor  our  unchangeable  belief  in  relation 
to  it.  Certain  it  is,  that  in  all  our  perceptions,  we  refer 
the  corresponding  sensations  to  something  without  as  their 
cause.  This  reference  is  belief  ]  and  a  belief  that  the  objects 
perceived  are  the  causes  of  the  sensations  concerned. 

In  our  apprehension,  this  argument  is  decisive  in  favor 
of  the  doctrine  that  second  causes  have  power ;  for  the 
doctrine  is  identified  with  that  primary  belief  which 
sways  the  mind  in  all  its  perceptions  of  things  external. 
Nay,  more ;  to  believe  in  something  external,  and  yet 
deny  its  efficiency,  is,  in  some  respects,  more  absurd  and 
less  defensible  than  the  sceptical  doctrine  of  no  external 
world. 

Hence,  Dr.  Brown  has  remarked,  with  reference  to 
this  theory,  "  that  it  is  only  an  awkward  and  compli- 
cated modification  of  the  system  of  Berkeley."  It  pro- 
fesses to  believe  in  an  external  world,  while  this  world 
does  nothing  by  which  it  is  or  ever  can  be  made  known ; 
for  it  is  not  the  cause  of  our  sensations  even.  It  affirms 
matter  to  be  evident  to  our  senses,  while  it  makes  no  more 
impression  upon  our  senses  than  if  it  really  had  no  being. 
Our  knowledge  of  matter,  too,  is  only  what  it  is  relatively 
to  us,  and  yet,  relatively  to  us,  it  is  nothing  ;  for  it  affects 
us  not  at  all :  all  our  affections,  certainly  those  which  are 
external,  come  immediately  from  God.  Can  a  system 
marked  by  such  incoherence  be  founded  in  truth  ? 

Fourth.  It  is  agreed,  on  all  hands,  by  those  who 
admit  the  existence  of  matter,  that  it  is  possessed  ol 


212  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

certain  qualities  which  distinguish  it  from  mind.  But 
what  is  meant  by  the  qualities  of  matter,  other  than  the 
powers  which  it  possesses,  and  which  it  develops  in  the 
changes  which  it  produces  or  undergoes  ?  The  qualities 
of  a  thing,  Dr.  Brown  has  shown,  are  not  different  from 
the  powers  of  a  thing.  They  are  terms  of  equivalent 
import,  and  used  interchangeably  for  each  other,  except 
that  the  latter  is  not  so  often  used  with  a  passive  signifi- 
cation as  the  former. 

With  equal  propriety  we  say  it  is  a  quality  of  water 
to  melt  salt,  and  that  water  has  the  power  of  melting 
salt ;  and  though  the  first  of  these  terms  is  often  em- 
ployed to  express  the  susceptibility  of  a  substance  as 
well  as  the  power  of  a  substance,  yet,  when  used  actively, 
it  is  precisely  equivalent  to  the  word  power,  taken  in  its 
more  common  and  active  signification. 

What  do  we  mean,  then,  when  we  speak  of  the  quali- 
ties or  powers  of  a  substance  ?  Doubtless,  we  mean  to 
speak  of  something  which  belongs  to  the  substance,  and 
which  is  truly  predicable  of  it.  Here  is  an  apple.  I 
say  it  is  sweet  or  it  is  red.  What  is  the  import  of  this 
language  ?  That  the  apple  possesses  certain  qualities  or 
powers  ?  Not  this  only  ;  but  that  it  possesses  qualities 
or  powers  which  affect  me.  I  mean  that  the  apple,  when 
applied  to  my  taste,  produces  the  sensation  of  sweetness, 
and  when  considered  in  relation  to  the  organ  of  vision, 
produces  the  sensation  of  color  termed  redness.  What 
else  can  I  mean  ?  I  do  not  suppose,  surely,  anything  in 
the  apple  resembling  the  feelings  it  occasions  in  me ;  but 
I  do  suppose  it  possessed  of  certain  qualities  which  I 
regard  as  the  causes  of  my  sensations  or  feelings ;  and 
hence,  from  the  influence  of  the  imagination,  as  well  as 
from  the  poverty  of  language,  I  give  to  these  causes  and 
to  their  effects  the  same  names.  I  say  of  the  apple,  it  is 
sweet,  to  signify  that  it  is  the  cause  of  a  sensation  which 
I  thus  denominate ;  I  say  it  is  red,  to  denote  that  it  is  the 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


213 


cause,  also,  of  a  visual  sensation,  designated  by  the  term 
redness. 

If  this  be  a  correct  statement  of  the  case,  (and  I  am 
not  aware  that  it  differs  from  the  commonly-received 
opinion,)  one  of  two  things  must  be  true ;  either  that 
there  is  no  foundation  for  ascribing  qualities  to  the  apple, 
or  that  these  qualities  are  the  causes,  the  real  causes  of  the 
sensations  whose  names  they  bear.  The  case  admits  of 
no  other  alternative  :  for,  if  qualities  mean  anything  in 
this  connection,  it  will  be  difficult  to  say  what  it  is, 
unless  it  be,  that  they  are  productive  powers  or  efficient 
causes.  If  they  mean  nothing,  we  had  better  abandon 
the  term  altogether,  and  use  a  language  more  conformable 
to  truth.  Then  we  should  have  substances,  but  no  qual- 
ities— a  multitude  of  cumbrous  things  to  be  acted  upon, 
(if  susceptibility  in  this  case  were  not  also  an  absurdity,) 
but  not  one  among  them  all  capable  of  the  smallest  action 
or  reaction.  One  difficulty,  however,  might  possibly 
occur ;  we  should  not  exactly  know  where  to  find  these 
substances,  since  upon  the  present  hypothesis,  of  their 
having  no  qualities  and  doing  nothing,  every  conceivable 
means  of  learning  their  existence  would  be  removed. 

Fifth.  This  therefore  we  allege,  in  the  fifth  place,  as  a 
decisive  argument  on  the  question  at  issue.  If  second 
causes  do  nothing,  they  affect  us  nothing ;  if  they  affect 
us  nothing,  we  cannot  know  that  they  exist. 

This  is  Dr.  Brown's  argument,  when  he  would  show 
that  material  substances  are  as  truly  causes  in  their  lim- 
ited and  humble  sphere,  as  the  Deity  himself  in  the 
boundless  kingdom  which  he  fills.  The  argument  is 
short,  but  clear  and  comprehensive.  To  myself,  I  con- 
fess it  is  exceedingly  satisfactory;  and  though  I  have 
found  many  who  did  not  like  its  conclusion,  I  have  never 
found  one  who  deemed  it  expedient  formally  and  logi- 
cally to  attack  it.  The  reason  I  take  to  be  obvious ;  it 


214  ON   SECOND  CAUSES. 

is  too  palpable  and  too  cogent  to  be  replied  to.  I  give 
you  the  illustration  of  Dr.  Brown  himself. 

Light  affects  us  in  vision,  or  it  does  not  affect  us.  If  it 
does  affect  us,  it  does  something — it  is  the  cause  of  our 
visual  sensations.  If  it  does  not  affect  us,  then  in 
this  case  it  does  nothing — it  is  no  cause,  and  for  aught 
we  can  see,  exists  for  no  purpose ;  nay,  the  legitimate 
conclusion  would  be,  that  we  neither  have,  nor  can  have, 
any  evidence  of  its  existence,  unless  it  be  specifically 
revealed,  and  revealed  alike  to  every  individual;  for 
nothing  short  of  this  would  answer  the  purpose. 

A  slight  consideration  of  this  argument  is  sufficient  to 
show,  that  to  deny  the  efficiency  of  second  causes,  is 
virtually  to  shut  matter  out  of  the  world ;  or,  if  it  be  al- 
lowed to  exist,  that  it  can  exist  for  no  conceivable  end, 
unless  it  be  to  remind  the  Deity  when  to  put  forth  his 
power,  and  do  that  which  he  certainly  would  do  without 
any  such  memorial. 

On  this  subject,  the  language  of  the  author  to  whom 
we  have  just  alluded,  is  peculiarly  striking.* 

"  That  which  excites  in  us  all  the  feelings  ascribed  to 
certain  qualities  of  matter,  is  matter;  and  to  suppose 
that  there  is  nothing  without  us  which  excites  these 
feelings,  is  to  suppose  that  there  is  nothing  without,  as 
far  we  are  capable  of  forming  any  conception  of  matter." 
Hence  his  opinion  that  the  doctrine  of  "  universal  and 
spiritual  efficiency,  in  the  sequence  of  physical  causes,  is 
but  an  awkward  and  complicated  modification  of  the 
system  of  Berkeley."  For  while  it  maintains  that  God 
does  all,  and  matter  does  nothing,  with  strange  incon- 
sistency it  professes  to  believe  that  matter  exists,  though 
no  one  can  see  for  what  end,  nor  have  the  least  evidence 
of  its  being. 

To  show  that  second  causes  are  truly  efficient,  I  add 

*  Cause  and  Effect,  page  62. 


ON    SECOND     CAUSES. 


215 


but  a  single  consideration  more,  and  that  is  the  mere  fact 
of  their  existence.  They  either  exist,  or  do  not  exist.  If 
they  do  not,  our  inquiry  has  no  object;  God  alone  ex- 
ists, and  he  alone  must  have  power.  If  they  do  exist, 
their  existence  must  be  something  distinct  and  separate 
from  God,  though  derived  from  him.  This  is  equally 
true  of  matter  and  of  mind.  The  question  we  put  then, 
is,  can  we  conceive  anything  to  exist  without  power, 
property  or  quality,  of  some  kind  ?  For  what  is  that 
which  has  neither?  It  is  known  by  nothing,  it  is  ca- 
pable of  nothing,  and  we  have  every  reason  to  think  is 
nothing. 

The  very  existence,  therefore,  of  a  substance,  sup- 
poses the  existence  of  qualities  or  powers  of  some  sort. 
But  can  these  be  supposed,  and  yet  the  substance  to 
which  they  belong  do  nothing,  and  be  capable  of 
nothing  ?  What  are  these  qualities,  when  actively  con- 
sidered, but  so  many  powers  which  are  efficient  in  the 
production  of  change  ?  If  they  produce  no  change,  nor 
exert  an  influence  to  that  end,  we  cannot  know  that 
they  exist,  or  the  substances  of  which  they  are  predicat- 
ed. But  the  point  of  our  remark  is,  that  their  very  exist- 
ence involves  in  it  the  notion  of  some  quality  or  power, 
inasmuch  as  it  is  inconceivable  that  they  should  exist 
without.  "  A  substance  without  qualities,"  says  the  in- 
genious writer  to  whom  we  have  several  times  referred, 
"  if  conceived  to  be  an  object  of  knowledge,  seems  to  be 
a  contradiction  in  terms ;  and  the  qualities  of  substances 
are  only  another  name  for  their  powder  of  affecting  other 
substances;"  and,  applying  these  remarks  to  material 
substances,  he  adds :  "  Whatever  definition  we  may 
give  of  matter,  must  always  be  the  enumeration  of  those 
properties  or  qualities  which  it  exhibits ;  and  if  there 
were  no  powers,  there  would  truly  be  nothing  to  define." 
It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  the  case  is  in  no  de- 
gree different  with  regard  to  mind. 


216 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


We  cannot  better  conclude  this  Lecture,  than  in  the 
words  of  Mr.  Locke.*  "The  infinite  eternal  God  is  cer- 
tainly the  cause  of  all  things — the  fountain  of  all  being 
and  power.  But  because  all  being  was  from  him,  can 
there  be  nothing  but  God  himself?  Or,  because  all 
power  was  originally  in  him,  can  there  be  nothing  of  it 
communicated  to  his  creatures  ?  This  is  to  set  very 
narrow  bounds  to  the  power  of  God,  and  by  pretending 
to  extend  it,  takes  it  away.  For  which,  I  beseech  you, 
as  we  can  comprehend,  is  the  greatest  power:  to  make  a 
machine — a  watch  for  example — that,  when  the  watch- 
man has  withdrawn  his  hands,  shall  go  and  strike  by  the 
fit  contrivance  of  the  parts ;  or  else  requires  that,  when- 
ever the  hand  by  pointing  to  the  hour  minds  him  of  it, 
he  should  strike  twelve  upon  the  bell  ? 

"  No  machine  of  God's  making  can  go  of  itself.  Why  ? 
Because  the  creatures  have  no  power,  can  neither  move 
themselves  nor  anything  else.  How,  then,  comes  about 
all  that  we  see  ?  Do  they  do  nothing  ?  Yes ;  they  are 
occasional  causes  to  God  why  he  should  produce  certain 
thoughts  and  motions  in  them.  The  creatures  cannot  pro- 
duce any  idea  or  thought  in  man.  How,  then,  comes  he 
to  perceive  or  to  think  ?  God,  upon  the  occasion  of 
some  motion  in  the  optic  nerve,  exhibits  the  color  of 
a  marigold  or  a  rose  to  his  mind.  How  came  that  mo- 
tion in  his  optic  nerve?  On  occasion  of  the  motion  of 
some  particles  of  light  striking  on  the  retina,  God  pro- 
ducing it,  and  so  on.  And  so,  whatever  a  man  thinks, 
God  produces  the  thought,  let  it  be  infidelity,  murmuring 
or  blasphemy.  The  mind  doth  nothing ;  his  mind  is  only 
the  mirror  that  receives  the  ideas  that  God  exhibits  to 
it,  and  just  as  God  exhibits  them.  The  man  is  alto- 
gether passive  in  the  whole  business  of  thinking.  A 
man  cannot  move  his  arm  or  his  tongue — he  has  no 

*  Search  of  Truth,  pp.  110,  111,  by  Dr.  Beazeley. 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


217 


power — only  upon  the  occasion,  the  man  willing  it — God 
moves  it.  The  man  wills,  he  doth  something ;  or  else 
God,  upon  the  occasion  of  something  he  did  before,  pro- 
duced the  will  and  this  action  in  him. 

"This  is  the  hypothesis  that  clears  all  doubts,  and 
brings  us  at  last  to  the  religion  of  Hobbes  and  Spinoza,  by 
resolving  all,  even  the  thoughts  and  will  of  men,  into  an 
irresistible  and  fatal  necessity.  For  whether  the  ori- 
ginal of  it  be  from  the  continued  motion  of  all  doing 
matter,  or  from  an  omnipotent  immaterial  Being  who, 
having  begun  matter  and  motion,  continues  it  by  the 
direction  of  occasions  which  he  himself  has  also  made ; 
as  to  religion  and  morality,  it  is  just  the  same  thing. 

"But  we  must  know  how  everything  is  brought  to 
pass,  and  thus  we  have  resolved  it  without  leaving  any 
difficulty  to  perplex  us.  But  perhaps  it  would  better 
become  us  to  acknowledge  our  ignorance,  than  to  talk 
such  things  boldly  of  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  and  condemn 
others  for  not  daring  to  be  as  unmannerly  as  ourselves." 
[Locke's  reply  to  Norris,  a  follower  of  Malebranche.] 


LECTURE  YIIL 


ON    SEC  OND    CAUSES. 


ARE  SECOND  CAUSES  EFFICIENT  1 

THE  doctrine  maintained  in  the  preceding  Lectures 
was,  that  second  causes,  are  causes  per  se,  operating  by 
their  own  inherent  energy,  and  operating  as  truly  in 
their  humble  spheres,  as  the  Great  First  Cause  in  the 
mighty  works  which  he  performs.  Nor  do  we  suppose 
that  this  doctrine  detracts,  in  any  measure,  from  the 
Divine  wisdom  or  power.  On  the  contrary,  we  coincide 
with  Mr.  Locke,  in  thinking  that  the  opposite  doctrine 
takes  away  from  the  power  of  God,  if  not  from  his  wis- 
dom :  since  it  denies  to  him  the  possibility  of  imparting 
to  his  creatures  any  agency  whatsoever,  and  makes  his 
government  to  consist,  not  in  controlling  agents,  physical 
or  moral,  by  a  system  of  well  adapted  means,  but  in  a 
succession  of  changes,  or  events  produced  by  his  imme- 
diate and  sole  efficiency.  That  is  to  say,  he  governs 
creatures  which  do  nothing,  and  which  from  their  very 
constitution  can  do  nothing,  and  this  without  any  means 
or  instrumental  causes;  for  instrumental  causes  there 
cannot  be,  where  instruments  have  no  power. 

But  God,  it  may  be  said,  can  give  them  power.  Be  it 
so ;  then  they  are  no  longer  powerless ;  they  will  cer- 
tainly do  something,  when  brought  into  circumstances 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES.  219 

adapted  to  their  agency.  But  what  now  becomes  of  the 
theory  which  denies  to  creatures  universally  all  power, 
and  makes  God  the  sole  efficient  in  every  case  ? 

It  is  a  curious  fact  in  the  history  of  this  controversy, 
that  those  who  espouse  the  doctrine  of  the  immediate 
and  sole  efficiency  of  the  Deity,  seem  to  consider  it,  as 
representing  in  a  more  sublime  light  the  Divine  omnipo- 
tence, by  exhibiting  it  to  our  conception  as  the  only 
power  in  nature.  But  they  might  in  like  manner  affirm, 
that  the  creation  of  the  infinity  of  worlds,  with  all  the 
life  and  happiness  that  are  diffused  over  them,  render 
less,  instead  of  more  sublime,  the  existence  of  Him  who, 
till  then,  was  the  sole  existence;  for  power  that  is  de- 
rived, derogates  as  little  from  the  primary  power,  as 
derived  existence  derogates  from  the  Being  from  whom 
it  flows/'* 

Light,  say  they,  is  powerless  in  vision,  and  yet  they 
are  willing  to  admit  that  light  exists— nay,  they  are 
strenuous  asserters  of  its  existence — and  are  anxious  only 
to  prove,  in  their  zeal  for  the  glory  of  Him  that  made  it, 
and  who  makes  nothing  in  vain,  that  this,  and  all  or  the 
greater  number  of  his  works,  exist  to  no  purpose.  For 
to  what  purpose  can  they  exist,  if  they  accomplish 
nothing,  nor  even  make  themselves  known  by  any  influ- 
ence or  agency  whatsoever  ?  "  The  production  of  so 
simple  a  state  as  that  of  vision,  or  any  other  of  the  modes 
of  perception,  with  an  apparatus  which  is  not  merely 
complicated,  but  in  all  its  complication,  absolutely  with- 
out efficacy,  is  so  far  from  adding  any  sublimity  to  the 
Divine  nature  in  our  conception,  that  it  can  scarcely  be 
conceived  by  the  mind  without  lessening  in  some  degree 
the  sublimity  of  the  Author  of  the  universe,  by  lessening, 
or  rather  destroying,  all  the  sublimity  of  the  universe  he 
has  made." 

*  Brown  on  Cause  and  Effect,  pp.  62,  63. 


220  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

Thus  reasons  Dr.  Brown,  and  so  just  and  forcible  is  it, 
that  it  needs  no  comment  of  ours  to  give  it  effect.  But 
let  us  look  at  this  subject  in  another  point  of  view;  let 
us  contemplate  it  as  it  stands  related  to  the  moral 
responsibility  of  man. 

It  seems  to  be  a  common  sentiment,  equally  admitted 
by  both  parties  in  this  argument,  that  moral  obligation  is 
founded  upon  physical  ability  ;  that  is  to  say,  a  man  must 
have  a  physical  capacity  to  act  agreeably  to  the  law  of 
his  duty,  or  he  could  not  be  bound  to  act  agreeably  to 
that  law.  This  is  obviously  a  common-sense  notion, 
nor  do  any  insist  upon  it  with  more  frequency  or  with 
more  earnestness,  than  those  who  make  God  the  only 
efficient  cause.  Upon  this  principle  it  is,  that  every 
man  condemns  himself,  and  condemns  his  neighbor, 
when  he  does  not  act  conformably  to  the  rule  of 
duty.  But  can  a  man  be  said  to  have  a  physical  power 
to  act  according  to  the  law  of  duty,  if  all  his  acts, 
whether  physical  or  moral,  are  the  immediate  produc- 
tion of  Omnipotence  ?  and,  of  course,  are  at  all  times 
just  what  that  Omnipotence  makes  them  ?  What  is 
physical  power  or  ability  ?  Is  it  not  something  which 
pertains  to  the  agent  of  whom  it  is  predicated  ;  some- 
thing which  is  anterior  to  action,  which  Jits  and  capaci- 
tates for  action  ?  But  can  there  be  such  fitness  and 
capacity,  where  action  is  impossible,  and  admitted  to  be 
so,  without  a  new  and  Almighty  Antecedent  ?  an  ante- 
cedent extrinsic  to  the  agent,  and  in  nowise  dependent 
upon  what  he  is,  or  what  he  does  ?  and  whose  agency 
can  never  become  his.  How  is  the  power  of  action  in 
him,  when  it  is  admitted,  and  earnestly  contended,  that 
it  lies  out  of  him,  and  is  in  God  alone  ?  Will  it  be  said 
that  he  has  the  susceptibility  of  action,  if  not  the  power 
of  action;  he  can  be  acted  upon,  and  thus  made  to  act, 
and  made  to  act  in  any  given  manner  ?  Suppose  it  were 
so  (though  upon  the  principles  of  our  opponents,  that 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES.  221 

created  existence  has  no  qualities,  it  is  as  difficult  to 
conceive  of  susceptibility  as  of  power);  yet  I  say,  suppose 
it  were  so — that  man  has  the  susceptibility  of  action — 
though  not  properly  the  power — that  is,  he  can  be  made 
to  act  when  God  acts  upon  him ;  how  does  this  help  the 
matter  as  to  his  physical  power  ?     Is  it  not  seen  at  once, 
that  no  such  power  belongs  to  him,  since  his  actions  flow 
not  from  what  can  be  found  within  himself,  and  in  the 
objects  which  surround  him,  but  from  the  immediate  fiat 
of  the  Deity.     It  is  this  fiat  which  gives  birth  to  his 
actions ;  and  without  it  they  have  no  adequate  cause, 
and  consequently  are  impossible,  and  impossible  for  the 
want  of  physical  ability.     If  the  want  of  ability,  there- 
fore, be  the  want  of  power,  who  does  not  see  that  man 
(according  to  the  philosophy  of  our  opponents)  has  no 
physical  power,  as  the  basis  of  obligation,  or  the  source 
of  his  responsibility  ?     But  there  is  another  difficulty 
attending  the  system  which  we  oppose ;  as  it  provides  no 
basis  for  moral  obligation  by  providing  man  with  physi- 
cal power  to  act,  or  not  to  act,  in  any  given  case,  so  it 
presents    a    hypothesis    which   seems   adverse    to  our 
notions  of  responsibility.    For  as  man  cannot  act  without 
God  act  upon  him,  so  it  would  seem  he  must  act  when 
acted  upon,  and  act  in  the  very  manner  in  which  the 
influence  he  receives  shall  direct.     When  he  does  right 
and  when  he  does  wrong — if  right  and  wrong  it  could  be 
called — it  is  owing  to  the  positive,  immediate  and  all-con- 
trolling agency  of  God.     And  yet  he  is  bound  to  do  the 
one  and  to  avoid  the  other,  notwithstanding  this  agency, 
if  not  irrespective  of  it.    He  is  bound  to  do  right,  whether 
God  move  him  to  do  right  or  not — though  without  that 
moving  he  has  no  power ;  and  he  is  bound  to  avoid  the 
wrong,  though  moved  to  it  by  Omnipotence,  which  would 
transcend  his  power,  if  he  had  any;  but  he  has  none, 
and  since  he  has  none,  the  absurdity  seems  the  greater, 
that  he  should  be  required  to  avoid  that  which  he  has 


222  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

neither  power  to  do  nor  to  avoid,  and  that  when  moved 
to  the  wrong  by  a  power  which  is  Almighty.  This, 
surely,  cannot  be  agreeable  to  our  natural  notions  of 
tilings,  nor  easily  reconciled  with  our  acknowledged 
responsibility. 

Is  it  a  mere  passive  power  ?  a  susceptibility  of  being 
acted  upon  ?  Then  it  is  like  mobility  in  matter,  a  capa- 
city of  being  moved,  when  a  power  sufficient  is  applied 
to  move  it :  it  is  susceptibility  of  change,  or  rather  of 
being  changed,  when  an  adequate  cause  is  supplied.  Is 
this,  then,  what  is  meant  when  it  is  said  that  a  man  has 
physical  power  to  be  holy,  viz. :  that  he  can  be  holy  if 
God  make  him  so,  and  that  he  cannot  be  holy  if  God 
does  not  make  him  holy ;  that  he  can  be  sinful,  if  God 
make  him  sinful ;  and  that  he  can  be  neither  holy  nor 
sinful,  nor  act  at  all,  but  from  the  immediate  and  irre- 
sistible energy  of  the  Deity  ?  Wherein  does  this  differ 
from  the  lowest  species  of  mechanical  power  ?  and  why 
is  not  man,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  a  mere  machine, 
if  such  be  the  nature  of  his  being  ? 

Assuming  the  fact  that  man's  power  is  nothing  but 
capacity  of  action,  when  acted  upon ;  and  it  is  perfectly 
obvious  that  he  neither  will,  -nor  can  act,  but  when  he  is 
acted  upon ;  and  that  he  neither  will  nor  can  act  in  any 
other  manner  than  according  to  the  nature  and  tendency 
of  the  power  which  acts  upon  him.  It  is  not  only  mor- 
ally but  physically  impossible  that  he  should  act  with- 
out this  moving  power,  which  lies  out  of  himself;  or 
that  when  he  d  x  s  act,  his  action  should  be  otherwise 
than  it  is.  In  this  respect  he  is  like  a  stone,  he  can- 
not move  unless  moved ;  and  when  moved,  the  motion 
is  the  mere  result  of  the  moving  power,  and  is  in  every 
respect  just  what  that  moving  power  caused  it  to  be ; 
while  it  is  physically  impossible  for  it  to  be  otherwise. 

Now,  if  this  is  the  nature  of  man's  physical  capacity, 
we  should  be  glad  to  see  it  reconciled  with  his  moral 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


223 


accountability.  What  foundation  is  there  for  ought  and 
ought  not,  where  it  is  plainly  physically  impossible  that 
the  event  should  be  otherwise  than  it  is  ? 

Is  a  man  bound  to  act  in  a  certain  manner,  when  he 
has  not  the  physical  power  thus  to  act  without  the  inter- 
position of  Omnipotence  ?  and  even  when  Omnipotence 
is  exerted  to  make  him  act  in  a  different  manner  ?  If 
this  is  true  philosophy,  I  think  it  will  be  hard  to  recon- 
cile it  with  common  sense.  Common  sense,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  Bible,  dictates  that  it  is  according  to  what  a 
man  hath,  and  not  according  to  what  he  hath  not,  that  God 
requires  of  him ;  that  where  much  is  given  much  will  be 
required,  and  where  little  is  given  little  will  be  required. 

But  it  never  supposes  obligation  where  nothing  is 
given,  or  which  amounts  to  the  same  thing,  where 
there  is  no  physical  power.  In  all  cases  it  graduates  a 
man's  obligation  by  his  physical  powers  and  opportu- 
nities. It  supposes  that  when  a  man  acts  wrong,  he 
had  at  the  same  moment  the  physical  power  of  acting 
right,  and  upon  this  power  founds  his  obligation  to  have 
acted  right.  Let  any  one  consult  his  own  mind,  when 
he  has  committed  a  wrong  action,  and  what  is  the  voice 
of  nature  in  his  bosom  ?  Why,  that  he  might  have  acted 
otherwise ;  that  he  had  the  physical  power  of  acting 
otherwise,  and  therefore  ought  so  to  have  acted.  On 
this  ground  alone,  he  condemns  himself  for  having  acted 
as  he  has  done.  But  remove  this  basis  of  obligation,  and 
let  him  believe  once  that  he  had  not  the  physical  power 
to  have  done  differently,  and  all  sense  of  blame  would 
instantly  vanish.  He  would  no  more  condemn  himself, 
for  what  has  commonly  been  considered  a  wrong  action, 
than  for  hitting  his  head  against  a  post  in  a  dark  night, 
or  falling  down  a  precipice,  when  compelled  by  a  power 
external  to  himself.  This  fact  is  so  obvious  that  nobody 
seems  to  doubt  it.  It  is  agreed  on  all  hands  that  there 


224  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

must  be  physical  power  to  right  moral  action,  or  there 
can  be  no  obligation  to  such  action. 

But  what  is  it,  we  ask  again,  for  a  man  to  possess  this 
power  ?  We  all  go  upon  the  principle  that  man  has  it, 
or  he  would  not  be  a  moral  agent.  Can  we  tell  what  it 
is  ?  Is  it  the  mere  capacity  of  being  excited  to  action, 
as  the  power  external  to  him  shall  direct — that  is,  the 
capacity  of  being  the  subject  of  an  action,  just  as  a  ball 
is  a  subject  of  a  motion  given  to  it  by  a  force  from  with- 
out ?  If  this  is  all,  then  man  has  power  to  do  nothing 
but  what  he  actually  does ;  all  his  actions  are  physi- 
cally necessary — the  mere  result  of  some  power  extrin- 
sic to  himself.  Perhaps,  however,  it  will  be  said,  this  is 
not  all.  It  is  not  intended  to  consider  man  as  the  mere 
passive  receiver  of  the  action  of  another,  but  as  becom- 
ing active  himself  in  consequence  of  receiving  that  ac- 
tion. But  in  what  sense  does  he  become  active  ?  His 
action  is  the  mere  product  of  another's  power,  and  the 
necessary  product*  just  as  much  as  the  motion  of  a 
wheel  is  the  product  of  the  power  applied  to  it.  The 
wheel  may  be  very  active  in  consequence  of  this  power, 
and  may  be  instrumental  in  giving  motion  or  action  to 
other  wheels  connected  with  it ;  still  it  is  necessary  ac- 
tion, the  result  of  physical  agency  out  of  itself.  It  is 
physically  impossible  it  should  not  act  as  it  does.  If 
there  is  any  difference  between  the  man  and  the  wheel 
tell  us  where  it  lies.  Both  are  moved  by  a  power  ex- 
trinsic to  themselves,  and  by  a  necessity  strictly  physi- 
cal. For  it  is  admitted  that  man  has  not  the  physical 
power  of  acting,  but  as  he  is  acted  upon,  and  that  his 
action  is  the  necessary  result  of  his  being  thus  acted 
upon.  True,  it  may  be  said,  but  his  action  is  different 
in  its  nature  from  the  action  of  a  wheel — it  is  intelligent 
and  voluntary  action.  Be  it  so,  it  is  not  the  less  neces- 
sary, not  the  less  physically  impossible  it  should  be 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES.  225 

otherwise  than  it  is  ;  for  it  is  the  immediate  and  neces- 
sary result  of  an  extrinsic  power  or  agency,  which  he  is 
physically  unable  to  control.  It  is  not  true,  when  he  has 
acted  in  one  particular  manner,  that  he  had  the  physical 
power  to  have  acted  in  another  particular  manner ;  for 
his  power  to  act,  is  to  act  when  acted  upon,  and  to  act 
in  such  a  manner  only  as  the  power  which  acts  upon 
him  directs. 

A  wheel  by  its  construction,  let  us  suppose,  is  equally 
fitted  to  turn  towards  the  east  or  towards  the  west.,  but  it 
can  turn  neither  way  unless  a  power  is  applied  which  is 
external  to  itself.  Is  it  conceivable  that  this  power  can 
be  applied  without  determining  the  direction  of  its  mo- 
tion ?  If  motion  is  given  to  it,  it  will  be  either  to  the 
east  or  to  the  west ;  but  which  of  the  two  must  depend 
on  the  application  of  the  power.  The  power  is  applied, 
and  it  turns  towards  the  east :  is  it  not  physically  im- 
possible, under  exactly  the  same  application  of  power — 
the  same  in  manner,  not  in  measure — that  it  should  turn 
to  the  west  ?  For  whether  it  shall  move  at  all,  and 
what  shall  be  the  direction  of  the  motion,  are  both  alike 
infallibly  connected  with  the  application  of  some  external 
moving  force. 

Now,  is  the  mind  of  man  such  a  wheel  ?  If  it  is,  it  is 
perfectly  certain  that  it  has  physical  power  to  do  only 
what  it  does ;  for  both  its  action  and  the  character  of 
its  action  equally  depend  on,  and  are  infallibly  con- 
nected with,  the  power  which  acts  upon  it,  and  which 
is  extrinsic  to  itself.  I  will  not  say,  though  many  will 
say  it,  that  there  can  be  neither  virtue  nor  vice,  if  this 
notion  of  man's  dependence  and  agency  be  correct ;  but 
I  will  say,  that  it  destroys  the  doctrine  maintained  by 
some,  that  man  has  a  physical  power  of  counteracting 
God's  decrees,  and  of  doing  differently  from  what  he 
does.  It  introduces  a  necessity  into  our  actions  of  a 
perfectly  physical  character,  since  it  supposes  them  to 
15 


226  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

depend  on  nothing  within  us,  but  on  something  wholly 
extrinsic  to  ourselves,  and,  so  far  as  it  is  either  supposed 
or  believed,  can  scarcely  fail  to  diminish  a  sense  of  our 
responsibility.  But,  happily  for  the  cause  of  virtue,  let 
men  speculate  upon  this  subject  as  they  may,  there  is  in 
every  bosom  a  strong  internal  sense  of  right  and  wrong — 
a  conviction  that  nothing  can  eradicate  that  we  ought 
to  act  in  one  way  rather  than  another ;  while  this  sense 
of  obligation  always  presupposes  some  idea  of  physical 
power  or  ability  to  act  in  conformity  to  the  rule  of  duty, 
and  wherever  this  idea  of  powrer  is  wanting,  there  all 
sense  of  obligation  ceases.  An  absolute  physical  neces- 
sity never  was,  and  we  think  never  can  be,  reconciled 
with  the  notion  of  moral  obligation. 

But  how,  it  may  be  asked,  shall  we  avoid  this  diffi- 
culty ?  Is  not  man  dependent  for  his  existence  and  all 
his  powers  ?  and  if  dependent  the  first  moment  of  his 
existence,  why  not  the  second,  and  every  succeeding 
moment  ?  And  if  thus  dependent,  how  can  he  act  un- 
less acted  upon,  or  made  to  act  by  the  immediate  agency 
of  God.  This  is  thought  to  be  a  very  cogent  argument, 
and  often  relied  upon  with  much  confidence  by  those 
who  employ  it.  Our  reply  is,  man  is  indeed  dependent 
for  his  existence,  because  that  existence  is  derived  from 
his  Creator ;  and  he  is  dependent  for  the  continuance 
of  his  existence,  because  he  will  either  continue  or  cease 
to  be,  as  his  Creator's  will  determines.  So  long  as  the 
creature  is  in  the  hands  of  God,  to  do  with  him  as  he 
will — to  modify  his  being — to  prolong  or  to  annihilate  it 
at  pleasure — he  may  justly|be  said  to  be  dependent  on 
God.  He  not  only  received  all  from  God,  but  he  holds 
all,  through  every  period  of  his  existence,  on  the  sove- 
reign pleasure  of  his  Maker.  But  this  is  not  the  kind 
of  dependence  which  our  opponents  plead  for.  Man, 
say  they,  came  into  being  by  the  immediate  and  positive 
efficiency  of  God,  as  did  every  other  creature.  In  the 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


227 


first  and  indivisible  moment  of  his  being,  he  depended 
on  the  immediate  influx  of  the  Divine  power;  and  if  thus 
dependent  the  first  moment,  why  not  the  second,  and 
the  third,  and  as  long  as  his  being  shall  remain  ?  Ah, 
why  not  ?  If  creation  and  preservation  were  certainly 
the  same  thing,  there  would  be  more  plausibility  in  this 
reasoning.  But  who  can  show  this  to  be  the  fact? 
Philosophy,  I  am  persuaded,  can  never  do  it ;  and  the 
Scriptures  are  too  indefinite  in  their  testimony  to  au- 
thorize any  such  conclusion.  They  assert,  indeed,  that 
God  upholds  all  things  by  the  word  of  his  power ;  but 
how  he  upholds  they  do  not  say — whether  simply  by 
preserving  the  forms  of  existence,  keeping  every  order 
distinct,  and  maintaining  that  succession,  subordination 
and  harmony  which  his  eternal  wisdom  designed,  and 
thus  including  the  idea  of  government — or  by  preventing 
things,  even  the  first  principles  of  things,  from  falling 
back  into  their  primitive  nothingness.  The  Scriptures 
are  not  sufficiently  explicit  to  settle  these  points;  and 
if  they  were,  and  we  knew  that  the  last  idea  suggested 
was  intended,  the  subject  would  still  be  open  to  inquiry, 
whether  preservation  is  a  continued  creation,  as  some 
have  imagined,  or  whether  it  is  what  the  word  more 
naturally  signifies,  a  mere  upholding  or  continuing  in 
being  the  first  principles  of  things,  with  all  their  powers. 
But  we  are  not  anxious  to  decide  upon  any  of  these 
matters.  Let  it  be  conceded,  for  the  sake  of  narrowing 
the  ground  of  controversy,  that  God's  power  is  imme- 
diate in  upholding  and  prolonging  the  existence  of  crea- 
tures. What  follows  ?  Not  that  they  cannot  act  when 
thus  upheld  with  all  their  powers,  and  act  without  his 
superadded  agency.  The  truth  is,  they  cannot  fail  to 
act,  if  their  very  existence  involve  powers,  as  on  a  former 
occasion  we  attempted  to  show.  Their  properties,  what- 
ever they  may  be,  when  actively  considered,  are  but  so 
many  powers  and  modes  of  acting,  which  necessarily 


228  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

flow  from  the  nature  of  their  being,  and  which  can  neither 
be  altered  nor  diminished  but  by  changing  their  essence 
or  relations.  If  you  give  existence,  then,  you  give  power: 
if  you  prolong  existence,  you  prolong  power,  which  will 
certainly  operate  as  often  as  appropriate  occasion  occurs 
— that  is,  as  often  as  the  substances  to  which  they  belong 
are  brought  into  circumstances  fitted  to  develop  their 
powers. 

To  apply  this  reasoning  to  the  existence  of  man.  By 
the  very  constitution  of  his  being,  he  is  a  rational  and 
voluntary  agent.  If  he  exist  at  all,  with  such  a  nature 
or  constitution  as  he  has,  he  will  act,  and  act  according 
to  his  rational  and  voluntary  powers.  Having  the  capa- 
city of  thought,  he  will  think ;  having  the  capacity  of 
reasoning,  he  will  reason ;  having  the  capacity  of  feeling, 
he  will  feel ;  of  choosing  and  refusing,  he  will  choose  or 
refuse.  It  is  impossible  that  he  should  exist  such  as  he 
is,  without  exhibiting  such  properties  and  powers  as  are 
essential  to  his  being;  nor  can  he  fail  to  manifest  any 
of  the  peculiar  attributes  of  his  nature,  whenever  the 
appropriate  circumstances  arise.  He  needs  not  the 
action  of  any  other  being  to  enable  him  to  act,  for  he 
has  this  ability  in  the  very  existence  he  has  received, 
and  will  continue  to  have  it  while  his  existence  and 
powers  remain  unimpaired.  Activity  belongs  to  his  na- 
ture; and  it  is  as  absurd  to  suppose  that  he  will  not  act, 
as  that  a  percipient  being  will  not  perceive,  or  a  sentient 
being  not  feel,  when  their  powers  are  met  with  their 
appropriate  objects.  It  is,  in  short,  the  very  same  thing. 
If  a  man  with  perfect  organs  of  vision  open  his  eyes 
upon  the  sun,  will  he  not  see  it  ?  If  two  and  two  are 
presented  to  his  mind  as  an  object  of  comparison,  will  he 
not  perceive  their  equality  ?  If  he  be  asked  whether 
the  whole  be  greater  than  a  part,  will  he  not  answer  in 
the  affirmative  ?  Can  he  be  a  percipient  and  rational 
being,  and  his  powers  in  these  circumstances  not  be  ex- 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


229 


erted  ?  Or  is  it  necessary  to  the  exercise  of  his  powers, 
that  he  should  be  acted  upon  by  a  power  extrinsic  to 
himself?  That  is  to  say,  though  he  has  the  power  to 
perceive,  to  think 9  to  reason,  yet  he  can  do  neither  but  by 
a  power  superadded,  and  which  is  in  no  respects  his 
own  ?  This  is  to  give  and  to  take  ad  libitum.  It  is  to 
assert  and  deny  the  same  powers,  at  the  same  time  ;  or, 
in  other  words,  it  is  to  adopt  the  absurd  notion  of  power- 
less powers.  There  is,  we  apprehend,  no  mistake  here, 
unless  it  could  be  shown  that  to  think,  to  reason,  to  feel, 
are  not  properties  essential  to  the  mind.  We  admit,  in- 
deed, that  the  mind  can  no  more  think,  without  an  ob- 
ject of  thought,  than  the  eye  can  see  without  an  object 
of  vision ;  that  is  to  say,  if  the  mind  thinks,  it  must 
think  of  something,  and  if  the  eye  sees,  it  must  doubt- 
less see  something.  But  the  point  more  immediately 
concerned  in  the  present  discussion  is,  can  the  mind  fail 
to  think  when  an  object  is  presented  to  its  attention,  any 
more  than  the  eye  to  see,  when  it  is  opened  to  the  land- 
scape in  the  beams  of  the  noontide  sun  ?  It  is  evidently 
impossible  ;  for  the  very  presentation  of  an  object  sup- 
poses thought,  in  some  of  its  diversified  forms.  They 
must  have  a  strange  notion  of  mind,  who  suppose  it  ca- 
pable of  existing  without  thinking,  and  stranger  still, 
who  suppose  it  invested  with  the  noblest  powers  of  per- 
ceiving, judging,  willing — powers  which  enter  into  its 
very  constitution — and  yet  powers  which  cannot  be  put 
forth,  without  the  immediate  exertion  of  Omnipotence  to 
bring  them  into  action.  But  the  absurdity  of  this  view 
has  already  been  exposed. 

There  are  two  objections,  however,  which  are  some- 
times made  to  the  ground  which  we  have  taken,  and 
which,  perhaps,  may  deserve  some  notice  :  One  is,  that 
unless  we  admit  God  to  be  the  immediate  and  efficient 
cause  of  our  mental  acts,  and  of  our  volitions  among  the 


230  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

rest,  we  have  an  effect  without  a  cause.  And  the  other 
is,  that  our  doctrine  of  creature  efficiency  removes  crea- 
tures from  under  the  control  of  the  great  Supreme.  As 
to  the  first  of  these  objections,  that  unless  all  events  are 
produced  by  the  immediate  agency  of  the  Deity,  we 
have  an  effect  without  a  cause,  I  frankly  acknowledge 
that  I  can  see  no  foundation  for  it. 

If,  indeed,  it  be  taken  for  granted  that  second  causes 
have  no  power,  I  admit  that  such  a  consequence  would 
naturally  follow.  For  as  God,  upon  this  principle,  is  the 
only  efficient  in  the  universe,  whatsoever  is  not  caused 
by  his  agency  plainly  can  have  no  cause.  But  we  are 
not  quite  ready  to  concede  the  fact  that  second  causes 
have  no  power.  We  are  much  inclined  to  believe  that 
the  contrary  has  been  made  somewhat  evident ;  and  at 
any  rate,  it  is  not  a  consequence  to  be  charged  to  our 
principles,  that  if  second  causes  have  power,  then  we 
shall  have  effects  without  a  cause.  For  where  is  the 
absurdity,  I  ask,  in  supposing  that  the  creature  is  the 
proximate  cause  of  his  own  actions  ?  that  he  truly  begins 
them  ?  or,  if  you  like  the  terms  better,  that  they  arise 
out  of  the  nature  of  his  being  and  the  relations  he  bears 
to  other  beings,  without  the  immediate  intervention  of 
his  Creator  ?  If  he  is  a  cause  in  any  case,  why  may  he 
not  be  the  cause  of  his  own  actions  ?  You  see  before 
you  an  elegant  book ;  it  awakens  your  curiosity  to  know 
something  of  its  contents ;  and  as  there  is  nothing  to 
impede  your  gratification,  you  take  it  into  your  hand, 
open  it,  and  glance  your  eye  over  its  pages.  Here  are 
several  acts,  all  your  own,  proceeding  from  the  powers 
you  possess,  and  occasioned  by  the  striking  and  agreea- 
ble appearance  of  the  book  which  lies  before  you.  From 
first  to  last,  what  is  there  here,  for  which  you  are  not 
possessed  of  adequate  powers  ?  powers  belonging  to  your 
being  and  essential  to  your  very  constitution  ?  What 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


231 


we  maintain  is,  that  man  was  made  with  a  capacity  for 
all  this ;  that  it  is  essential  to  his  nature  thus  to  perceive, 
desire,  will,  act ;  and  that  he  would  not  be  the  same  being 
that  he  now  is,  if  he  were  not  possessed  of  these  powers 
and  capable  of  these  acts.  These  acts  flow  from  his 
being  and  the  circumstances  in  which  he  is  placed,  just 
as  any  effect  flows  from  its  cause.  They  are,  therefore, 
not  without  cause,  nor  without  an  immediate  and  effi- 
cient cause.  They  proceed  from  the  man,  and  from  the 
objects  which  surround  him ;  and  the  man  and  the  ob- 
jects proceed  from  the  power  of  God. 

But  how  can  God  govern  man,  if  man  act  without  the 
immediate  and  positive  efficiency  of  God  ?  May  he  not 
take  a  course  which  God  cannot  foresee  ?  or,  if  he  fore- 
see, which  he  cannot  prevent,  without  breaking  in  upon 
the  harmony  of  his  works  ?  We  answer,  that  we  see 
no  difficulty  here.  Man  always  acts  under  the  influ- 
ence of  motive,  when  he  acts  voluntarily  ;  and  when  he 
does  not  act  voluntarily,  he  acts  under  the  influence  of 
causes,  either  within  or  without,  which  are  adapted  to 
his  various  powers  and  susceptibilities.  These  causes  are 
all  known,  measured  and  appointed,  by  the  Divine  wis- 
dom, and  their  influence  is  just  what  God  expected 
and  intended.  Everything,  therefore,  goes  on  accord- 
ing to  the  Divine  counsel ;  and,  so  far  as  this  state- 
ment is  concerned,  according  to  a  previous  arrange- 
ment in  the  unsearchable  wisdom  and  boundless  power 
of  the  Great  First  Cause.  Man,  in  these  circumstances, 
will  neither  do  anything,  nor  forbear  to  do  anything, 
which  had  not  been  purposely  provided  for  in  the  nature 
of  his  being  and  in  the  objects  which  surround  him. 
God's  government,  on  this  principle,  cannot  be  less  com- 
prehensive, nor  less  efficient,  than  if  every  event  in  the 
universe  was  the  result  of  his  immediate  interposition. 
Nor,  to  our  conception,  would  it  be  a  government  less 


232  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

wonderful  and  glorious,  as  it  would  be  a  government  of 
unfathomable  calculation  and  foresight ;  a  government  of 
means  beyond  all  comprehension  numerous  and  diversi- 
fied, and  yet  perfectly  adapted  to  the  nature  of  his  crea- 
tures, and  issuing  in  the  most  grand  and  desirable  results. 

But  whether  such  a  government  is  possible  is  more 
than  reason  can  determine.  So  numerous  are  the  trains 
of  antecedents  and  consequences,  crossing  each  other  in 
every  direction,  that  we  know  not  whether  it  be  physi- 
cally possible,  in  all  cases,  to  produce  the  best  issue, 
without  the  immediate  interposition  of  the  all-wise  Cre- 
ator and  Governor.  It  is  wiser  and  safer,  therefore,  we 
think,  and  somewhat  more  scriptural  to  conclude,  that 
as  all  creatures  and  things  are  absolutely  in  God's  hands, 
to  modify  their  influence  at  pleasure,  that  he  does  often 
interpose,  and  make  the  result  otherwise  than  it  would 
be,  if  secondary  agents  were  left  entirely  to  their  own 
native  tendencies  or  powers. 

But  take  which  view  we  please,  we  see  nothing  in  the 
doctrine,  that  second  causes  are  causes  per  se,  which  in- 
terferes in  the  least  with  the  most  absolute  control  of 
the  Supreme  Being,  in  the  world  of  matter  and  in  the 
world  of  mind. 

After  all,  it  may  be  said,  what  difference  does  it  make 
whether  second  causes  have  power  or  not,  since  it  is  ad- 
mitted that,  if  they  have  power,  that  power  is  derived 
from  the  Great  First  Cause,  and  will  always  be  exercised 
in  such  manner  only  as  to  fulfill  his  wise  and  eternal  coun- 
sels ?  Why  may  we  not  as  well  suppose  that  all  things 
are  done  by  his  immediate  agency,  as  that  any  of  them 
are  done  by  his  creatures,  since  his  power  was  originally 
necessary  to  their  power,  and  since  they  are  but  instru- 
ments to  execute  his  pleasure  ?  So  far  as  moral  charac- 
ter is  concerned,  is  it  not  the  same  thing  to  accomplish 
a  result  by  subordinate  agents,  as  to  accomplish  it  with 


ON    SECOND     CAUSES.  233 

one's  own  hand  ?  To  this  we  reply,  that  the  difference 
is  great,  in  our  apprehension;  first,  as  it  relates  to  a  mat- 
ter of  fact — and  secondly,  as  it  concerns  the  moral  char- 
acter of  God. 

(1.)  It  makes  a  great  difference  in  point  of  fact,  or 
as  it  respects  the  nature  and  order  of  the  universe. 
In  the  one  case  we  have  creatures  who  are  distinct 
and  separate  from  their  Creator — real,  positive  beings, 
with  their  appropriate  powers — beings  which  are  not 
God,  but  the  workmanship  of  God,  called  into  existence 
by  his  sovereign  power,  and  continued  in  existence  by 
his  almighty  agency  immediately  exerted,  or  by  the 
constitution  given  to  them  in  the  very  act  of  creation. 
In  the  other  case,  we  have,  strictly  speaking,  no  creatures, 
but  only  a  succession  of  events,  immediately  produced 
by  the  agency  of  the  Deity ;  a  supposition  full  of  inex- 
plicable difficulties,  overturning  all  our  notions  of  matter 
and  mind,  and  of  the  relations  which  subsist  between 
creatures  and  their  Creator ;  a  supposition  equally  incom- 
patible with  the  physical  and  moral  government  of  God, 
and  which,  if  pursued  to  its  legitimate  results,  could 
scarcely  fail  to  land  us  in  the  most  absolute  and  deplora- 
ble scepticism. 

(2d.)  It  makes  a  great  difference,  also,  as  it  concerns 
the  moral  character  of  God.  For  if  second  causes  have 
no  power,  then  they  do  nothing,  and  all  is  done  by  the 
immediate  agency  of  the  Great  First  Cause  ;  or,  which 
is  the  same  thing,  God  is  the  doer  of  all  that  is  done  in 
the  universe,  whether  it  be  good  or  evil.  But  can  such 
a  doctrine  be  received  for  a  moment  ?  Who  is  prepared 
to  say,  that  the  action  of  every  moral  being,  if  being 
there  can  be,  other  than  God  himself,  is  only  the  action  of 
the  Great  Supreme  ?  that  nothing  is  done  in  heaven 
above,  or  in  the  earth  beneath,  or  in  the  waters  under  the 
earth,  but  what  is  done  by  his  power  immediately  ex- 


234  ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 

erted ;  and  when  done,  is  referrible  to  him  as  its  only 
efficient  cause  ?  Surely,  there  must  be  some  things  done 
which  neither  God  nor  holy  creatures  can  do.  There 
are  many  falsehoods  told,  many  deceitful  and  ensnaring 
motives  presented,  many  acts  of  injustice  and  cruelty 
performed,  any  one  of  which,  to  ascribe  to  God,  would 
be  little  less  than  blasphemy.  Take  the  case  of  false- 
hood. Does  it  make  no  difference,  whether  God  or  man 
pronounce  it  ?  Man  may,  and  often  does  pronounce  it ; 
but  with  God  it  is  impossible,  as  it  is  in  direct  opposition 
to  his  immutable  rectitude.  We  want  no  assistance  from 
metaphysics  to  perceive  in  a  moment  that  it  is  not  the 
same  thing  for  an  act  to  be  done  by  a  creature  of  God, 
and  to  be  done  by  God  himself.  The  things  are  as 
widely  separated,  as  if  the  creature  was  underived  in 
his  being,  or  as  if,  in  his  actions,  he  accomplished  no 
design  of  the  Almighty,  or  was  able  to  defeat  his  pur- 
poses. He  acts  by  virtue  of  his  own  powers,  and  under 
his  own  proper  responsibility ;  and  the  morality  of  his 
actions  is  ascribable  to  himself,  and  to  himself  only.  But 
there  could  be  no  truth  in  this  statement,  if  the  creature 
were  not  an  agent  distinct  and  separate  from  God,  and 
a  moral  agent  possessing  powers  adapted  to  moral  action. 
Say  that  the  creature  has  powers,  and  he  will  certainly 
do  something,  unless  his  powers  are  powerless  powers, 
which  is  an  absurdity.  Deny  that  he  has  powers,  and 
you  assert  that  God  does  all — all  that  is  right,  and  all 
that  is  wrong  in  the  universe.  If  an  ensnaring  motive  is 
presented,  be  it  ever  so  false  or  so  foul,  it  is  God  who 
presents  it,  for  the  creature  can  do  nothing,  because  he 
is  powerless.  If  this  motive  is  cherished  or  embraced, 
it  is  not  the  creature  who  cherishes  or  embraces  it,  for 
this  is  to  do  something,  and  something,  of  course,  which 
requires  power  of  some  kind ;  but  the  creature  has  ab- 
solutely none,  and  he,  it  would  seem,  must  be  absolutely 


ON    SECOND    CAUSES. 


235 


nothing,  God  and  his  acts  constituting  the  sum  of  all 
being. 

NOTE.  It  should  be  stated,  in  justice  to  the  author,  that  to  the  original  manu- 
script was  prefixed  the  following  note  : 

"  There  may  be  natural  power  to  a  thing,  where  there  is  not  all  the  power 
necessary  to  the  existence  of  that  thing.  In  some  instances,  moral  power  also 
is  requisite,  and  where  this  is  the  case,  natural  or  physical  power,  be  it  ever  so 
great,  is  but  a  conditioned  power,  and  cannot,  of  itself,  be  a  power  absolute  or  an 
adequate  cause.  It  is  only  a  power  if.  Enough  it  may  be,  of  that  sort  of  power, 
but  not  enough,  in  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  to  make  sure  of  the  proposed 
or  contemplated  effect." 


LECTURE    IX. 


ON    THE    FALL    OF    MAN. 


WERE  it  possible  to  consider  the  scriptural  account  of 
the  fall,  apart  from  all  human  philosophy,  I  should  think 
it  extremely  desirable.  First,  it  would  evince  a  proper 
disposition  on  our  part  to  submit  to  the  testimony  of  God; 
and,  secondly,  it  would  be  likely  to  conduct  us  to  a  true 
and  safe  result.  But  in  present  circumstances,  I  know  not 
that  this  can  well  be  expected.  Every  man  has  his  own 
philosophy,  and  he  can  hardly  escape  its  influence  if  he 
would.  Insensibly  to  himself,  and  almost  necessarily,  he 
brings  it  to  bear  on  the  interpretation  of  the  sacred  text, 
and  hence  such  a  variety  of  interpretations  of  passages 
relating  to  the  subject  before  us.  God  speaks  plainly 
enough,  not,  indeed,  in  the  language  of  a  deep  and  recon- 
dite philosophy,  but  in  a  language  adapted  to  the  com- 
mon apprehension  of  men,  as  all  parties  admit;  and 
hence  all  parties  appeal  to  the  Sacred  Word  as  both  ob- 
vious and  decisive.  It  requires  but  little  observation, 
however,  to  perceive  the  influence  of  a  previous  philos- 
ophy in  giving  meaning  and  emphasis  to  the  Divine 
record.  If  its  literal  sense  does  not  accord  with  the  doc- 
trine or  opinion  to  be  supported,  then  it  must  be  under- 
stood yzgwra^e/y.  If  the  figurative  sense  be  obnoxious, 
then  a  literal  sense  must  be  maintained,  whatever  seem- 
ing probabilities  lie  against  it.  Sometimes  the  untoward 


ON    THE    FALL    OF    MAN. 


237 


passage  must  be  treated  as  elliptical,  and  sometimes  as 
redundant,  as  the  necessity  of  the  case  may  seem  to  de- 
mand. Nor  does  the  ingenious  expositor  find  it  difficult 
to  show  that  the  soundest  rules  of  criticism  have  pro- 
vided for  exactly  his  mode  of  interpretation.  The  con- 
sequence is,  it  avails  little  for  two  theorists  to  sit  down 
and  shoot  texts  at  each  other,  while  each  is  strong  in 
(the  principles  of)  his  philosophy,  and  possessed  of  the 
ordinary  skill  of  modifying  and  interpreting  the  language 
of  Holy  Writ.  The  free  and  popular  language  of  the 
Bible,  though  the  best  that  could  be  devised  for  the  pur- 
poses intended,  gives  ample  scope  for  this  species  of 
dialectics.  A  mere  glance  at  the  controversies  which 
have  been  going  on  in  the  Christian  world,  from  time 
immemorial,  is  abundantly  sufficient  to  justify  these 
remarks.  Their  correctness,  indeed,  is  evinced  from  our 
every  days'  experience,  where  any  religious  topic  is 
made  the  subject  of  debate.  Nor  is  it  probable  that 
soon,  if  ever,  it  will  be  otherwise.  Our  philosophy,  right 
or  wrong,  takes  a  powerful  hold  of  us,  and  gives  com- 
plexion to  the  results  of  our  theological  inquiries.  We 
may  regret  that  it  is  so ;  we  may  put  ourselves  upon 
our  guard  against  it ;  but  while  we  have  the  common 
infirmities  of  humanity,  I  fear  we  shall  never  be  willing, 
with  the  perfect  simplicity  of  children,  to  hear  God 
speak,  and  to  take  our  notions  of  revealed  truth  exclu- 
sively from  his  lips. 

We  might  derive  an  argument  from  this  statement  to 
review  our  philosophy,  and  to  do  our  very  utmost  to 
place  it  upon  a  sure  foundation,  knowing  the  influence 
it  is  likely  to  exert,  imperceptibly  to  ourselves,  in  our 
interpretations  of  the  Book  of  God.  But  I  choose  only 
to  say,  let  us  beware  of  that  philosophizing  and  specu- 
lative spirit  which  sometimes  renders  us  proud  and  un- 
teachable,  unwilling  to  submit  our  understandings  to  the 
clear  and  unequivocal  voice  of  Scripture,  unless  it  happen 


238  ON    THE    FALL    OF    MAN. 

to  coincide  with  our  preconceived  opinions,  or  with  the 
philosophical  grounds  upon  which  those  opinions  rest. 
God  is  undoubtedly  right  in  what  he  says,  whether  our 
reasonings  be  so  or  not ;  and  it  must  be  our  highest  wis- 
dom, as  well  as  duty,  to  yield  an  implicit  faith  to  his  de- 
clarations, whenever  fairly  made  out  to  us.  Nor  have  I 
any  fear  that  you  will  not  all  cheerfully  subscribe  to  this 
sentiment.  But  as  we  are  now  entering  upon  a  subject 
which  has  long  been  controverted,  and  may  be  difficult 
to  settle — a  subject  on  which  various  philosophical  sys- 
tems have  been  made  to  bear,  without  coming  to  a  sat- 
isfactory result — it  seemed  not  wholly  inappropriate  to 
suggest  the  importance  of  special  attention  to  the  Divine 
record,  while  we  examine  the  circumstances  and  inquire 
into  the  causes  of  man's  fall. 

That  this  event  occurred  solely  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  second  causes,  we  think  there  is  much  rea- 
son to  believe.  But  when  we  say  this,  we  do  not  mean 
to  deny,  but  admit,  God's  wise  ordering  and  control  in 
the  case.  We  do  not  suppose  it  happened  because  he 
could  not  prevent  it  without  intrenching  upon  the  moral 
liberty  of  man,  but  because  for  wise  and  holy  reasons  he 
deemed  it  best  not  to  prevent  it,  though  perfectly  in  his 
power.  It  is  our  purpose  to  say  that  we  see  no  evidence 
of  any  immediate,  positive  and  direct,  agency  of  God  in 
this  matter,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  we  find  no 
proof  that  he  forbore  any  agency,  or  suspended  any  in- 
fluence in  the  moment  of  man's  apostacy,  which  he  is 
known  to  have  exerted  previous  to  that  event.  We 
suppose  that  this  lamentable  occurrence  was  produced 
by  the  influence  of  second  causes  alone,  unconnected 
with  any  immediate  and  special  agency  of  the  Deity, 
either  positive  or  negative.  But  before  offering  our  rea- 
sons for  this  opinion,  it  will  be  necessary  to  advert  for  a 
moment  to  the  doctrine  of  second  causes,  as  held  by  two 
distinct  classes  of  theologians.  One  class  maintain  that 


ON    THE    FALL    OF    MAN.  239 

second  causes  are  causes  per  se;  that  they  actually  do 
what  they  seem  to  do,  by  a  power  which  is  lodged  in 
their  very  being;  and  that  this  power  is  as  truly  their 
power,  as  the  power  of  the  Great  First  Cause  is  his ;  a 
power  derived  and  dependent,  indeed,  and  subject  to 
any  modifications  which  the  Supreme  Power  may  or- 
dain ;  yet,  in  the  little  sphere  which  it  occupies,  it  is 
truly  efficient,  accomplishing  what  it  appears  to  accom- 
plish, whether  in  the  physical  or  moral  world. 

The  other  class  maintain  that  second  causes  are  the 
mere  antecedents  or  signs  of  their  consequents,  having 
no  efficiency  or  productive  power  in  themselves ;  or,  if 
you  please,  that  they  are  regular  and  stated  antecedents 
to  regular  and  stated  consequents ;  but  have  no  power 
or  efficiency  in  producing  their  several  results,  this  power 
being  found  in  the  constant  agency  of  God.  Of  course, 
they  merely  indicate  the  stated  manner  of  the  Divine 
operation,  which,  however,  is  immediate  and  direct.  In 
truth,  God  does  all,  and  they  do  nothing.  Yet  partly 
for  convenience  sake,  and  partly  with  a  view  to  fall  into 
the  common  way  of  speaking,  they  are  denominated 
causes,  and  their  regular  consequents  are  denominated 
effects.  But  no  more  is  meant  by  these  terms,  than  that 
the  antecedents  and  consequents  in  any  series  of  events 
are  statedly  and  uniformly  conjoined.  Hence,  in  strictness 
of  speech,  according  to  this  system,  the  relation  of  cause 
and  effect  is  nothing  more  than  the  relation  of  antece- 
dent and  consequent — a  relation,  however,  which  is  uni- 
form and  invariable.  According  to  the  one  system,  when 
it  is  said  that  an  event  has  occurred  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  second  causes,  and  second  causes  only,  it  is 
obviously  meant  that  the  Great  First  Cause  did  not  in- 
terpose to  vary  the  result  in  any  degree,  but  left  these 
causes  to  work  their  appropriate  effect,  according  to 
their  own  natural  and  intrinsic  power,  so  that  where 


240  ON  THE  FALL  OF  MAN- 

these  second  causes  are  the  same,  the  result  will  uni- 
formly be  the  same. 

According  to  the  other  system,  when  it  is  said  that  an 
event  has  taken  place  through  the  instrumentality,  or  by 
means  of  second  causes  only,  the  meaning  plainly  is,  that 
the  course  of  nature  is  not  departed  from ;  the  same  an- 
tecedent is  followed  by  the  same  consequent,  according 
to  that  law  of  Divine  operation  which  gives  uniformity 
to  the  sequency  of  things,  the  same  natural  causes  being 
constantly  conjoined  with  the  same  natural  effects.  But 
though  the  immediate  and  constant  agency  of  God  is 
here  fully  recognized,  and  recognized  as  that  which 
constitutes  the  whole  energy  of  nature,  really  producing 
all  the  changes  we  see  ;  yet  no  advocate  of  this  philoso- 
phy, when  inquiring  into  the  causes  of  things,  ever  thinks 
of  saying  that  God  is  the  cause,  unless  he  supposes  a 
departure  from  the  uniform  course  of  nature.  The  object 
of  his  inquiry  always  is,  to  ascertain  what  is  the  imme- 
diate and  invariable  antecedent  in  any  given  change, 
and  when  he  has  discovered  it,  he  says  that  is  the  cause, 
using  the  word  cause,  however,  in  the  sense  which  his 
philosophy  requires.  Were  I  to  ask  him  what  is  the 
cause  of  the  irregularity  of  my  watch,  either  in  going 
too  fast  or  too  slow,  or  occasionally  in  not  going  at  all, 
he  would  never  think  of  saying  to  me,  it  is  owing  to  the 
interposition  of  God,  or  it  is  to  be  ascribed  to  his  almighty 
agency.  Such  an  answer,  it  is  obvious,  would  convey- 
no  idea  at  all,  or  it  would  convey  a  false  idea.  For 
though  it  might  be  true  that  the  Divine  agency  was 
concerned  in  the  event,  either  more  immediately  or  re- 
motely, yet  this  is  not  the  thing  inquired  after,  unless, 
indeed,  we  were  looking  out  for  a  miracle.  The  object 
of  inquiry  is  some  natural  cause  ;  and  yet,  not  whether 
it  is  a  cause  per  se,  but  whether  there  be  some  natural 
cause,  and  what  it  is  which  has  occasioned  the  irregu- 
larity of  the  watch.  The  same  thing  holds  true,  with 


ON    THE    FALL    OF    MAN.  241 

respect  to  every  other  occurrence  in  the  physical  or 
moral  world,  whose  immediate  antecedent  or  proximate 
cause  is  sought.     It  would  be  absurd  to  resort  to  the 
immediate  act  of  God  for  the  explanation  of  any  phe- 
nomenon, except  where  no  second  cause  can  be  found, 
and  where  the  event  obviously  takes  place  contrary  to 
the  settled  order  of  things.     Suppose  a  man  had  changed 
his  politics  or  religion,  and  the  event  was  to  be  accounted 
for,  what  would  be  the  course  which  a  man  of  common 
sense  would  take  ?     He  would  doubtless  apply  himself 
to  the  acknowledged  principles  of  human  action ;  that 
is,  to  those  circumstances  and  facts  which  are  known  to 
influence  the  mind  in  such  cases,  and  which  he  may 
ascertain  were  present  in  this  case.     And  when  he  had 
satisfied  himself  of  the  appropriate  antecedent  or  ante- 
cedents in  the  case,  he  would  tell  you  what  he  believed 
was  the  cause.     But  he  would  never  say  that  God  was 
the  cause,  unless  he  supposed  the  change  was  miracu- 
lous, and  could  not  be  accounted  for  by  a  reference  to 
second  causes  and  the  settled  order  of  things. 

We  have  made  this  statement  of  the  two  systems  of 
philosophy,  with  regard  to  cause  and  effect,  and  espe- 
cially of  the  use  of  the  term  cause,  when  secondary  and 
subordinate  causes  are  referred  to,  for  the  purpose  of 
having  it  clearly  understood  what  we  mean,  when  we 
say  that  man  fell  from  his  primitive  state  through  the 
instrumentality  of  second  causes.     We  mean  not  at  all 
to  raise  the  question  whether  these  causes  are  causes 
per  se  or  not ;  but  let  this  question  be  decided  as  it  may, 
our  doctrine  is,  that  the  fall  of  man  was  brought  about 
by  the   appropriate  influence  of   second   causes   only. 
Make  what  you  please  of  a  second  cause — let  the  influ- 
ence ascribed  to  it  arise  from  w^hat  source  it  may,  the 
nature  given  it  by  its  Creator,  or  the  positive  efficiency 
of  the  Deity — still,  if  in  any  sense  it  be  a  cause,  and  in 
any  case  it  can  be  referred  to  as  the  ground  or  reason  of 
16 


242  ON  THE  FALL  OF  MAN- 

any  change,  then  we  are  prepared  to  say,  that  man  fell 
from  his  primitive  state  through  the  influence  of  second 
causes,  and  second  causes  only.  We  advocate  this  doc- 
trine in  the 

First  place,  from  the  fact  that  no  other  causes  are 
mentioned  in  the  account  which  God  has  given  us  of  the 
fall.  The  account  is  briefly  this.  After  stating  to  us  the 
happy  condition  of  our  first  parents,  as  made  in  the  Divine 
image  and  placed  in  the  garden  of  Eden,  the  garden  of 
delights,  with  no  other  restriction,  as  to  their  enjoyments, 
but  what  concerned  the  interdicted  tree,  it  informs  us  that 
Satan  appeared  to  the  woman  in  the  form  of  a  seraph  or 
serpent,  and  by  deceitful  and  ensnaring  motives,  prevailed 
upon  her  to  take  and  eat  of  the  forbidden  fruit.  Her 
husband,  through  her  instrumentality,  followed  her  ex- 
ample, and  thus  they  fell  from  their  primitive  rectitude 
into  a  state  of  moral  degradation  and  ruin.  I  enter  not 
at  all  now  into  the  subtle  nature  of  the  temptation,  nor 
into  the  peculiar  circumstances  and  constitution  of  man, 
which  opened  a  door  to  the  temptation,  and  rendered 
him  susceptible  of  its  influence ;  but  merely  remark,  what 
I  presume  will  not  be  denied,  that  no  one  circumstance 
mentioned  in  the  train  presents  us  with  anything  but  a 
secondary  cause,  in  distinction  from  the  Great  First  Cause. 
The  facts,  indeed,  are  remarkable,  particularly  that  of  the 
serpent's  conversing  with  the  woman,  and  which  we 
have  supposed  to  be  Satan,  that  old  serpent,  the  devil, 
who,  on  this  occasion,  assumed  the  form  of  a  serpent, 
the  better  to  accomplish  his  artful  and  malignant  design. 
But  even  this,  if  we  take  the  Scriptural  account  of  Satan, 
is  nothing  beyond  his  power.  From  first  to  last,  we  have 
a  train  of  antecedents  and  consequents,  no  otherwise 
connected  or  combined  than  what  we  might  have  ex- 
pected in  the  natural  order  of  things. 

There  is  no  appearance  of  any  special  Divine  interpo- 
sition— nothing  which  might  lead  us  to  suppose  that  God 


ON    THE    FALL    OF    MAN. 


243 


did  anything  or  forbore  to  do  anything  at  the  moment 
Adam  sinned,  which  he  did  not  do  or  forbear  to  do  at 
any  moment  immediately  preceding.  Certain  it  is,  that 
nothing  of  this  kind  is  so  much  as  glanced  at  in  the 
history ;  which  is  the  more  remarkable,  if  anything  of 
this  kind  did  exist,  since  this  is  the  only  formal  and  dis- 
tinct account  we  have  of  the  circumstances  of  the  apos- 
tacy  in  the  Bible.  There  are  several  brief  allusions  to 
it  in  the  sacred  writings,  but  they  are  all  founded  upon 
this  statement  made  of  it  by  Moses,  and  add  not  a  par- 
ticle to  his  account. 

Has  God,  then,  or  has  he  not — for  we  are  to  remember 
that  this  is  God's  account — has  he  given  us  in  this  recital 
all  the  leading  facts  in  the  case  ?  enough  fully  to  account 
for  an  event  deplorable  in  itself,  and  of  such  gloomy  in- 
terest to  the  whole  human  family  ?     Or  are  we  to  believe 
that  a  very  important  item  has  been  omitted,  and  one 
which  we  must  collect  from  other  sources,  or  the  event 
of  the  fall  remain  forever  inexplicable  ?     I  acknowledge, 
for  one,  I  am  not  exactly  willing  to  believe  this.    It  strikes 
me  as  something  like  an  impeachment  of  the  Divine 
wisdom  and  goodness.     For  why  were  the  facts  in  the 
case  presented  to  us  at  all,  but  to  instruct  us  ?  and  how 
can  they  answer  this  design,  unless  they  are  full  enough 
to  account  for  the  awful  result  which  occurred  ?     To  my 
own  mind,  this  is  a  powerful  reason  for  believing  that  we 
have  the  whole  story,  and  not  a  part  of  it,  in  the  third 
chapter  of  Genesis — every  fact,  I  mean,  which  is  essen- 
tial to  a  rational  solution  of  the  apostacy.     To  suppose 
otherwise,  is  to  suppose  a  lame  account,  given  by  the 
infinitely- wise  moral  Governor,  of  a  transaction  in  which 
his  own  honor  was  deeply  concerned,  and  the  interests 
of  millions  of  immortal  beings.     But  if  this  reasoning  be 
just,  then  second  causes  only  were  immediately  con- 
cerned in  producing  the  fall,  for  no  others  are  mentioned 
as  acting  in  the  case.    I  say  immediately  concerned,  for 


244  ON  THE  FALL  OF  MAN- 

it  is  not  denied  that  God  himself,  the  Great  First  Cause, 
was  remotely  concerned.  It  was  a  part  of  his  counsel, 
and  the  second  causes  in  the  case  owed  their  existence 
to  him,  with  all  their  powers,  and  to  him  it  belonged  to 
bound  or  restrain  their  influence  at  pleasure. 

Perhaps,  however,  it  will  be  said,  if  we  take  the 
account  given  in  the  third  of  Genesis  as  a  full  statement 
of  the  case,  and  we  are  not  allowed  to  travel  beyond  it 
for  a  solution  of  the  difficulties  presented,  we  must,  after 
all,  remain  in  the  dark ;  for  the  facts  here  given  do  not 
account  for  the  fall  of  man.  Sound  philosophy  will  never 
consent  to  admit,  that  a  holy  creature,  as  Adam  was, 
could  be  induced,  by  any  motive  presented  to  his  mind, 
to  swerve  from  the  path  of  rectitude,  unless,  in  connec- 
tion with  the  motive,  an  influence  be  exerted  by  the 
Author  of  his  being,  which  should  incline  his  heart  to 
yield.  I  shall  not  stop  here  to  examine  the  principles 
of  this  philosophy,  but  I  would  simply  ask  on  what  it  is 
founded  ?  Has  it  facts  for  its  basis  ?  If  so,  where  are 
they  ?  A  philosophy  without  facts,  will  go  but  a  little  way 
with  a  sober  and  earnest  inquirer.  How  often  has  the 
experiment  been  made  with  holy  beings  in  the  condition 
of  Adam,  in  order  to  determine  the  force  of  a  temptation, 
and  thus  to  ascertain  the  connection  there  is  between 
an  ensnaring  motive,  and  the  seduction  aimed  at  by  him 
who  presents  it  ?  Our  first  parents  fell  before  the  power 
of  such  a  motive,  if  the  history  of  their  fall  can  be  de- 
pended upon  as  a  full  and  adequate  history.  Does  any- 
body know  that  it  is  not  full  and  adequate  ?  that  all  the 
causes  are  not  named — or  all  that  are  material  ?  Who 
is  prepared  to  say  that  the  natural  order  of  second  causes 
was  either  interrupted  or  violated  ?  that  the  temptation 
and  the  sin  did  not  stand  to  each  other  in  the  relation 
of  cause  and  effect,  as  much  as  any  other  two  events  in 
the  material  or  spiritual  world,  and  that,  too,  by  a  law 
as  settled  and  as  uniform  ?  We  had  better  examine  a 


ON    THE    FALL    OF    MAN.  245 

little,  and  see  how  far  our  knowledge  extends  on  this 
subject,  before  we  set  up  our  philosophy  to  bear  against 
the  fullness  or  accuracy  of  the  sacred  record. 

But  I  want  to  know,  says  a  man  strong  in  his  previous 
beliefs,  how  angels  fell  ?  There  was  no  devil  there  to 
tempt  them,  or  none  that  we  read  of.  Must  not  God 
have  changed  the  order  of  his  providence  in  relation  to 
them,  as  the  cause  of  a  change  in  their  character  ?  or  in 
other  words,  must  he  not  have  brought  a  new  influence 
to  bear  upon  them  by  his  immediate  agency  as  the  pro- 
ducing cause  of  their  apostacy  ? 

My  answer  is,  God  has  not  vouchsafed  to  tell  us  one 
word  upon  the  subject,  except  the  mere  fact  that  they 
kept  not  their  first  estate ;  and  as  for  our  experience,  it 
does  not  reach  to  such  ancient  and  sublime  matters.  We 
are  profoundly  ignorant  of  the  special  circumstances  of 
their  being,  and  of  the  occasion  of  their  fall;  and  we 
shall  remain  ignorant,  notwithstanding  all  our  specula- 
tions, till  light  is  poured  upon  us  from  the  invisible  world. 
We  may  conjecture  and  argue,  and  argue  and  conjec- 
ture, till  our  heads  turn  round,  but  we  shall  never  be 
able  to  advance  a  single  step  towards  solving  the  problem 
of  their  apostacy,  till  we  have  facts  and  the  circumstances 
of  facts.  We  can  say  it  took  place  under  the  wise 
ordering  of  Providence,  and  according  to  God's  eternal 
counsels ;  we  can  say,  perhaps,  that  God  purposed  it,  and 
that  what  he  purposes  never  fails  of  its  end.  But  after 
all,  how  it  took  place,  we  cannot  tell ;  what  were  the 
circumstances  which  led  to  it,  whether  in  the  minds  of 
the  angels  themselves,  or  in  things  which  were  about 
them,  we  know  not.  The  most  we  know  is,  that  though 
once  holy,  they  are  now  sinful — which  is  no  slender 
proof  that  creature  holiness  is  mutable,  unless  confirmed 
and  sustained  by  the  power  and  goodness  of  the  Creator. 

But  why,  it  may  be  asked,  did  not  all  the  angels  fall, 
after  the  apostacy  among  them  had  commenced  ?  I  answer, 


246  ON  THE  FALL  OF  MAN- 

I  know  not,  nor  can  any  mortal  tell  me.  There  was, 
doubtless,  a  reason:  either  the  peculiar  circumstances 
in  which  they  were  placed  in  relation  to  those  who  did 
apostatize  so  as  to  prevent  the  influence  of  their  exam- 
ple, or  some  new  cause  or  circumstance  was  made  to 
bear  upon  them,  by  God's  immediate  interposition,  or 
otherwise,  which  was  sufficient  to  dissipate  the  force  of 
temptation  if  presented ;  but  what  this  cause  or  reason 
was,  lies  utterly  beyond  the  reach  of  our  powers  to  ascer- 
tain, and  mere  conjecture  on  the  subject  is  useless. 
The  fall  of  angels,  therefore,  is  an  event  too  remote  from 
our  view  to  be  distinctly  analyzed,  or  drawn  into  a  com- 
parison with  the  fall  of  man,  so  as  to  throw  any  light  upon 
this  subject  of  inquiry.  And  as  to  the  recovery  of  man, 
the  case,  in  all  its  circumstances,  is  so  different  from  the 
fall,  as  not  to  admit  of  analogical  reasoning  from  the  one 
to  the  other.  This,  indeed,  has  often  been  attempted, 
and  attempted  with  great  confidence;  but,  as  I  appre- 
hend, without  the  least  propriety.  Man,  we  are  told, 
cannot  be  recovered  from  a  state  of  moral  depravity 
without  the  immediate  and  sovereign  interposition  of 
God,  and  hence  his  renovation  is  often  ascribed  to  the 
special  agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit;  and  the  argument 
drawn  from  this  position  is,  that  since  a  heart  entirely 
depraved  will  not  or  cannot  be  recovered  to  a  state  of 
moral  purity  by  the  operation  of  second  causes  merely, 
but  requires  the  immediate  interposition  of  the  First 
Cause,  so  a  heart  perfectly  holy  will  not  and  cannot  be- 
come corrupt,  but  by  a  similar  interposition.  God,  it  is 
contended,  must  work  alike  immediately  and  efficiently 
in  both,  or  the  change  in  moral  feeling  and  character 
will  never  be  effected.  But  who  knows  this  ?  What 
are  the  facts  on  which  this  opinion  rests  ?  Admit  that 
man's  heart  cannot  be  renovated  by  men  or  angels,  nor 
by  any  other  cause  or  agent,  except  God,  the  First  Cause, 
the  Almighty  Agent,  which  gave  birth  to  the  universe. 


ON    THE    FALL    OF    MAN. 


247 


and  it  does  by  no  means  follow  that  second  causes  can- 
not work  his  corruption  and  ruin. 

We  know  neither  more  nor  less  of  the  power  of  second 
causes,  but  from  facts ;  and  we  have  no  facts  to  oppose 
to  the  account  given  of  the  fall  of  man  in  the  Bible. 
What  is  there  said  of  the  agency  of  Satan,  and  of  the 
perverting  influence  of  the  motives  he  presented,  may 
be  true  for  aught  we  know,  as  to  the  connection  estab- 
lished between  one  event  and  another  in  the  moral  world. 
How  came  we  by  our  notion  that  one  man  cannot  con- 
vert another  from  sin  to  holiness,  with  the  same  facility 
that  he  can  persuade  him  to  take  a  walk,  or  to  join  in  a 
party  of  pleasure  ?  Nothing  but  our  experience,  and 
the  testimony  of  God's  Word,  can  throw  a  particle  of 
light  upon  this  subject.  All  reasoning  a  priori  would 
not  be  worth  a  rush.  It  is  simply  the  knowledge  of  facts 
attained  by  observation,  or  the  testimony  of  the  Word, 
which  enables  us  to  judge  in  the  case.  From  this  source 
we  learn  that  no  persuasion  used  by  the  art  of  man, 
unaccompanied  by  the  influence  of  the  Divine  Spirit, 
ever  converts  a  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  way.  But 
this  knowledge  helps  us  nothing  in  deciding  upon  a 
totally  different  question,  to  wit :  What  causes  are  requi- 
site to  induce  a  holy  being  to  sin  ?  Here,  too,  we  must 
have  facts  which  belong  to  the  case,  or  all  our  reasonings 
are  of  no  avail,  and  can  never  decide  the  object  of  in- 
quiry. My  knowing  how  man  fell,  throws  no  light  upon 
the  causes  of  his  recovery,  so  as  to  determine  what 
causes  would  be  requisite  in  the  case ;  and  on  the  other 
hand,  my  knowing  what  causes  are  requisite  in  his  re- 
covery, cannot  enable  me  to  decide  upon  the  sufficiency 
or  insufficiency  of  the  causes  concerned  or  supposed  to 
be  concerned  in  his  fall.  The  cases  are  widely  different, 
and  no  reasoning  from  the  one  to  the  other  is  either 
philosophical  or  safe. 

We  know  of  a  thousand  second  causes  which  can  take 


248  ON  THE  FALL  OF  MAN- 

life,  but  we  know  of  none  which  can  restore  it.  But 
because  God  alone,  by  the  sovereign  interposition  of  his 
power,  can  bring  back  the  departed  spirit,  when  it  has 
once  forsaken  its  clay  tenement,  we  do  not  conclude 
that  there  must  be  a  similar  interposition  of  his  power 
in  the  article  of  death,  or  that  to  die  and  rise  again  is 
equally  a  miracle.  We  believe  that  grapes  are  con- 
verted into  wine,  that  wine  may  be  converted  into  vin- 
egar, and  this  again,  by  a  putrefactive  process,  into 
water,  and  all  in  perfect  conformity  to  the  order  of 
second  causes  established  in  the  material  world.  But 
we  do  not  believe  that  any  train  of  second  causes  known 
in  the  universe  is  competent  to  reverse  this  order — 
changing  water  into  vinegar,  and  vinegar  into  wine,  and 
wine  into  grapes ;  and  why  do  we  not  believe  it  ?  Be- 
cause we  have  no  facts  on  which  to  ground  such  a  belief, 
and  all  our  experience  lies  against  it.  We  are  not  slow 
to  perceive  the  absurdity  of  reasoning  from  one  case  to 
another  in  the  natural  world,  unless  the  cases  are  pre- 
cisely parallel ;  and  we  ought  to  be  no  less  ready  to 
discover  the  inconclusiveness  of  such  reasoning  when 
employed  to  solve  the  phenomena  which  occur  in  the 
moral  world.  True  philosophy,  whether  applied  to 
matter  or  mind,  is  but  a  history  of  facts ;  and  the  facts 
pertaining  to  one  change  will  never  serve  for  the  facts 
pertaining  to  another  change,  unless  the  changes  them- 
selves are  in  the  same  substances  and  of  the  same  char- 
acter. 

To  our  apprehension,  therefore,  there  is  no  force  in 
the  argument  brought  from  the  necessity  of  the  imme- 
diate interposition  of  Divine  power  to  the  conversion 
of  a  sinner,  to  show  that  a  similar  interposition  was 
requisite  in  the  apostacy  of  man.  We  may  admit  it  in 
conversion  and  deny  it  in  the  apostacy,  and  neither 
philosophy  nor  the  Bible  opposes  either  of  our  positions. 
At  any  rate,  we  can  see  no  reason  to  question  that  the 


ON    THE    FALL    OF    MAN. 


249 


simple  statement  made  by  Moses  of  the  fall  of  man,  is 
not  a  full  account  of  all  the  essential  facts  concerned  in 
the  event.  But  if  the  account  be  of  this  character,  the 
conclusion  remains  firm  that  the  fall  of  man  was  brought 
about  by  the  sole  influence  of  second  causes. 

Secondly.  We  derive  an  argument  to  the  same  effect 
from  the  views  which  must  necessarily  have  governed 
the  great  deceiver  in  that  transaction.  Low  as  he  has 
fallen  in  point  of  moral  character,  it  will  not  be  ques- 
tioned that  he  is  mighty  in  intellect,  and  must  early 
have  been  acquainted  with  the  laws  which  govern  the 
spiritual  world.  His  conflict  with  heaven,  though  it 
covered  him  with  everlasting  disgrace,  neither  weakened 
his  intellectual  vigor,  nor  diminished  his  stock  of  expe- 
rience as  to  the  constitution  and  tendencies  of  things. 
There  is  every  reason  to  believe,  indeed,  that  his  know- 
ledge of  the  spiritual  world  was  enlarged  by  this  event, 
and  that  he  was  better  fitted  to  act  the  part  of  a  seducer, 
not  merely  from  the  malignity  of  his  disposition,  and  a 
total  disregard  to  truth,  but  from  his  deeper  insight  into 
the  springs  of  mental  action,  and  the  laws  which  govern 
thought.  As  an  intelligent  and  voluntary  agent,  he  must 
certainly  have  aimed  at  something  by  presenting  the 
temptation  to  our  first  parents,  and  it  is  equally  certain 
that  he  must  have  had  some  expectation  of  accomplish- 
ing his  aim,  or  he  would  never  have  embarked  in  the 
attempt.  For  it  seems  to  be  a  law  of  intelligent  exist- 
ence, never  to  attempt  a  thing  when  there  is  not  the 
least  shadow  of  hope  or  expectation  of  success.  Where 
an  object  is  believed  to  be  absolutely  unattainable,  there 
all  effort  is  out  of  the  question.  If  it  has  been  begun  it 
will  cease ;  if  it  has  not  been  begun,  while  the  belief 
remains  the  same  it  will  never  be  begun.  But  admit- 
ting the  great  deceiver  had  a  hope,  more  or  less  strong, 
of  seducing  the  happy  pair,  on  what  was  this  hope 
founded  ?  Was  it  founded  on  the  presumption  that  God 


250  ON  THE  FALL  °F  MAN- 

would  work  a  miracle,  and  thus,  by  stepping  aside  from 
the  laws  he  had  established  as  a  wise  and  benevolent 
cons  titution  of  things,  lend  the  aid  of  his  sovereign  inter- 
position to  the  nefarious  purpose  of  this  enemy  of  all 
righteousness  ?  If  he  indulged  such  a  hope,  I  own  it 
strikes  me  as  a  very  forlorn  hope,  having  as  little  to 
encourage  it  as  anything  I  can  well  conceive  within  the 
limits  of  possibility.  Besides,  if  Satan  acted  upon  this 
principle,  one  course  of  action  promised  just  as  fair  for  suc- 
cess as  another.  If  he  supposed  that  man  could  not  be 
seduced  through  the  influence  of  second  causes,  or  accord- 
ing to  the  regular  operation  of  the  known  laws  of  nature, 
but  that  God  must  specially  interpose,  and  by  a  sovereign 
act  of  his  power,  as  a  new  and  distinct  antecedent,  effect 
the  dreadful  change,  why  his  effort  at  deception  ?  He 
might  as  well  have  spoken  truth  as  falsehood,  or  whistled 
to  the  wind  as  to  do  either ;  for  on  this  supposition  there 
was  no  connection  between  his  efforts  and  the  ruin  of 
man,  and  no  tendency  to  this  result,  except  what  arose 
from  the  special  interposition  of  God.  What  reason, 
then,  could  he  have  to  expect  success  in  one  way  rather 
than  in  another,  unless  he  had  by  some  means  discovered 
the  Divine  mind  upon  this  subject,  and  learnt  under 
what  circumstances  God  was  most  likely  to  interpose  ? 
Nothing  of  this  kind,  I  presume,  will  be  pretended.  Of 
course,  if  Satan  had  any  hope  of  success,  which  to  every 
mind,  I  think,  must  appear  unquestionable,  his  hope  must 
have  been  grounded  on  his  knowledge  of  the  unstable 
state  of  man,  and  his  susceptibility  of  being  affected, 
according  to  the  laws  of  his  being,  by  the  motives  which 
might  be  presented  to  him.  The  artful  manner  in  which 
he  commences  and  prosecutes  his  attack  is  sufficient 
evidence  of  his  method  of  reasoning  on  the  subject; 
while  the  whole  story,  from  first  to  last,  clearly  shows 
that  he  hoped  to  succeed,  not  by  miracle,  but  by  ad- 
dress. His  profound  policy  is  seen  in  beginning  with  the 


ON    THE    FALL    OF    MAN.  251 

woman,  and,  as  has  been  commonly  thought,  while  her 
husband  was  not  with  her.  If  she  was  inferior  to  him 
in  mental  vigor  and  firmness,  and  at  the  same  time  pos- 
sessed of  a  greater  share  of  curiosity,  neither  of  which  is 
improbable,  who  does  not  perceive  the  artful  and  deep- 
laid  design  ?  for  succeeding  with  her,  there  was  little 
reason  to  doubt  that  her  husband  would  follow.  I  can- 
not enter  into  all  the  circumstances  of  the  temptation. 
It  is  enough  to  remark,  that  it  was  conducted  with  the 
profoundest  subtlety,  first  by  awakening  a  suspicion  of 
God's  goodness,  by  inquiring  whether  it  was  really  so,  that 
God  had  said  that  they  should  not  eat  of  all  the  trees 
of  the  garden  ?  as  if  this  was  a  thing  hardly  to  be  looked 
for  from  a  Being  of  supreme  beneficence,  who  studiously 
regarded  their  happiness ;  and  then,  when  he  found  a 
listening  ear,  proceeding  with  boldness  to  affirm  that  the 
evil  which  had  been  threatened  would  not  surely  follow, 
though  they  should  partake  of  the  forbidden  tree ;  for 
God  himself  knew  that  it  would  be  succeeded  by  a 
wonderful  improvement  of  their  faculties,  and  an  aug- 
mentation of  their  bliss — objects  very  proper  for  them  to 
desire,  and  right  for  them  to  seek,  especially  by  means 
so  perfectly  within  their  reach,  and  so  certain  in  their 
results.  Here  were  principles  addressed  which  belonged 
to  their  being — the  desire  of  knowledge,  and  the  desire 
of  happiness — both  instinctive,  and  both  innocent  till  in- 
dulged in  a  manner  which  God  had  forbidden,  and 
expressed  by  an  act  against  which  he  had  warned  them 
on  the  penalty  of  his  displeasure. 

The  warning,  however,  was  in  vain ;  the  temptation 
prevailed,  and  prevailed,  as  we  think,  from  the  subtlety 
of  its  character,  and  the  circumstances  of  the  persons  to 
whom  it  was  addressed.  But  the  argument  here  rests 
not  on  this  statement,  but  on  the  simple  fact  that  the 
great  deceiver  expected  to  succeed  by  operating  on  the 
mind  through  the  medium  of  the  motives  which  he 


252  ON  THE  FALL  OF  MAN- 

should  present,  and  this  according  to  the  established 
order  or  influence  of  second  causes  in  the  moral  world. 
That  he  had  such  an  expectation,  all  the  circumstances 
of  the  case  seem  clearly  to  demonstrate.  Was  he  mis- 
taken, then,  or  was  he  not,  as  to  the  foundation  on  which 
this  expectation  rested  ?  Did  he  understand  the  consti- 
tution of  things  in  relation  to  mind,  and  to  mind  in  a 
state  of  innocence  and  trial  ?  The  result  of  his  efforts 
makes  in  favor  of  the  supposition  that  he  did ;  but  what 
strikes  me  with  far  greater  force,  is  the  superior  order  of 
his  intellect,  and  the  opportunity  he  had,  both  before  and 
after  his  fall,  for  forming  a  correct  judgment  as  to  the 
laws  which  govern  minds.  Without  some  knowledge  of 
these  laws,  he  could  form  no  plans,  calculate  upon  no 
results,  and  would  be  as  powerless  in  the  kingdom  of 
providence  as  if  chained  in  the  bottomless  pit.  But  he 
is  not  thus  ignorant  and  powerless ;  he  has  a  mighty  field 
of  action,  and  is  represented  in  the  Scripture  as  display- 
ing an  energy  of  the  most  fearful  character.  All  this 
energy  presupposes  his  profound  knowledge  in  the 
science  of  mind ;  for  if  he  were  a  fool  in  philosophy,  he 
would  be  as  contemptible  in  influence  as  he  is  base  in 
moral  character.  From  these  considerations  I  derive  an 
argument  satisfactory  to  my  own  mind,  at  least,  that  the 
great  deceiver  reasoned  correctly  when  he  supposed  that 
the  seduction  of  our  first  parents  was  an  event  which  lay 
within  the  reach  of  second  causes,  and  might  be  accom- 
plished without  the  special  interposition  of  the  Great 
First  Cause.  His  opinions  in  relation  to  Job,  and  his 
subtle  and  vehement  temptation  of  our  Saviour  immedi- 
ately after  his  baptism,  display  views  of  the  same  char- 
acter, and  had  we  time  to  examine  them,  might  be  made 
to  illustrate  and  confirm  the  sentiment  now  advanced 
concerning  the  expectations  of  the  adversary  in  under- 
taking the  seduction  and  ruin  of  our  first  parents  in  the 
garden.  It  is  exceedingly  manifest  that  Satan  believed, 


ON    THE    FALL    OF    MAN. 


253 


and  still  believes,  that  a  virtuous  mind  may  be  drawn 
into  sin  through  the  agency  of  second  causes,  brought  to 
bear  upon  the  active  principles  of  its  nature.  In  the  case 
of  Job  he  only  partially  succeeded.  In  the  case  of  Christ 
he  was  utterly  foiled,  for  here  was  a  countervailing 
power  of  which,  it  is  probable,  he  was  not  at  first  fully 
aware.  He  either  did  not  know  that  the  humanity  of 
Christ  was  united  with  divinity ;  or  if  he  did,  he  was  not 
so  well  informed  concerning  the  influence  of  that  union 
as  to  make  the  attempt  at  seduction  appear  utterly  un- 
availing, till  the  experiment  had  been  fully  and  effectu- 
ally tried.  He  went  to  this  work  with  hopes  more  or 
less  confident,  according  to  the  views  which  he  took  of 
this  wonderful  Person ;  but  that  he  had  some  hope  of 
success,  we  think  is  past  all  question,  for  otherwise  a 
sufficient  motive  to  the  undertaking  cannot  be  supplied ; 
and  that  his  hopes  were  founded  substantially  on  the 
same  principles  which  encouraged  him  in  the  case  of  our 
first  parents,  is  a  fact  that  appears  in  a  high  degree  pro- 
bable, from  the  subtle  and  profound  policy  with  which 
he  selected  his  several  temptations.  In  view  of  the 
same  principles  he  acts  still,  in  all  his  attempts  to  seduce 
and  destroy  the  children  of  men.  He  takes  human  na- 
ture as  it  is,  and  addresses  himself  to  those  active  princi- 
ples of  the  mind,  of  whatever  character,  by  which  he 
hopes  to  influence  the  conduct,  and  draw  men  into  the 
paths  of  sin  and  death.  1  is  devices  are  numerous,  and 
characterized  by  the  deepest  knowledge  of  the  springs 
of  human  action.  They  display  a  philosophy  of  more 
profound  research  than  ever  yet  fell  to  the  lot  of  a  Hume 
or  a  Berkeley,  a  Locke  or  a  Reid,  a  Stewart  or  a  Brown. 
But  still  it  is  a  philosophy  confined  within  the  limits  of 
legitimate  inquiry,  or  simply  to  the  laws  which  govern 
thought.  Hence  it  is,  that  his  power  is  so  extensive,  and 
so  much  to  be  dreaded  by  the  human  family. 

His  coadjutors  and  subalterns,  or  those  demons  incar- 


254 


ON    THE    FALL    OF    MAN. 


nate  who  act  under  his  influence,  proceed  upon  the 
same  principle.  So  far  as  they  are  distinct  and  intelli- 
gent agents  in  the  work  of  seduction,  they  assume  human 
nature  as  it  is,  and  knowing  the  feelings  and  passions  of 
men,  and  the  connection  which  subsists  between  action 
and  the  inducement  to  action,  they  manifest  no  small  de- 
gree of  subtlety,  as  well  as  depravity  of  purpose,  in 
spreading  the  snare  for  the  feet  of  their  victims.  They 
never  expect  miracles,  but  they  expect  results,  and 
results  according  to  the  known  laws  of  human  action. 

I  may  be  mistaken  in  the  views  which  I  have  taken 
of  this  subject ;  but  if  not,  the  first  sin  of  man,  and  all 
other  sins,  the  first  temptation  and  those  which  have 
succeeded,  are  alike  in  this,  that  they  have  occurred 
within  the  limits,  and  agreeably  to  the  order,  of  second 
causes,  and  that  no  immediate  or  special  interposition  of 
the  Deity  was  ever  employed  in  the  one  or  in  the  other. 
In  short,  my  belief  is,  that  there  was  nothing  a  whit 
more  miraculous,  and  scarcely  more  wonderful,  in  the 
seduction  of  the  first  man,  than  in  the  millions  of  seduc- 
tions which  have  taken  place  since.  Means  were 
arranged  to  an  end,  and  such  means  as  might  be  ex- 
pected in  similar  circumstances  to  have  a  similar  result, 
agreeably  to  that  order  which  God  has  established  be- 
tween appropriate  causes  and  their  effects  in  the  spiritual 
or  moral  world. 

That  God  could  have  prevented  the  apostacy  of  man, 
if  he  had  thought  best,  I  do  most  cheerfully  concede ; 
but  whether  he  could  have  done  it  without  introducing 
some  new  influence  to  act  directly  upon  the  mind  of 
man,  I  pretend  not  now  to  determine.  I  think  it  mani- 
fest, however,  both  from  experience  and  from  the  Bible, 
that  man  can  never  be  recovered  from  his  apostacy  and 
restored  to  the  Divine  image,  without  the  intervention 
of  an  agency  not  known  to  belong  to  any  second  causes 
in  the  universe.  And  to  this  peculiarity  of  the  case,  I 


ON    THE    FALL    OF    MAN. 


255 


attribute  much  of  the  language  which  we  find  upon  this 
subject  in  the  Sacred  Volume,  where  the  new  heart  is, 
in  various  and  striking  forms  of  expression,  ascribed  to 
the  efficacious  and  special  influence  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
This  fact  of  itself  might  be  turned  in  argument  in  favor 
of  our  position,  that  the  fall  of  man  was  produced  by  the 
agency  of  second  causes  only.  For  if  God  work  in  one 
way  as  truly,  that  is,  as  immediately  and  efficiently,  as 
in  the  other,  why  is  it  not  so  declared?  why  this 
marked  difference  in  the  language  of  Scripture,  in  rela- 
tion to  the  fall  and  the  recovery  ? 


LECTURE  X. 


ON    NATIVE   DEPRAVITY. 


ONE  of  nature's  laws,  equally  visible  in  the  animal 
and  vegetable  kingdoms,  is,  that  "  like  produces  like." 
Every  species  propagates  its  own  kind.  Plants  and 
trees  are  not  of  spontaneous  production,  but  each  has  its 
own  seed,  its  own  root,  and  propagates  its  distinctive 
species  from  age  to  age.  There  is  often  a  diversity, 
however,  among  the  same  species,  whether  of  plants  or 
animals  ;  and  this  diversity  in  time  may  become  so  great 
as  to  form,  in  a  subordinate  sense,  a  new  species.  This 
is  particularly  observable  among  the  various  tribes  of  do- 
mestic animals.  How  different,  for  instance,  is  the  Ara- 
bian horse  from  the  Canadian ;  the  surly  mastiff  from 
the  brisk  and  insignificant  whiffit ;  the  English  ox  from 
the  Italian,  and  the  lesser  breeds  of  the  north  and  south. 
And  there  is  scarcely  an  animal  about  us  in  which  this 
diversity  does  not  appear,  though  originally,  it  is  sup- 
posed, the  parent  stock  was  the  same.  But  even  this 
diversity,  capable  of  being  widened  as  time  advances, 
or  adventitious  circumstances  intervene,  is  but  a  far- 
ther development  of  the  great  law,  that  like  produces  like. 
It  shows  how  closely  nature  adheres  to  the  principle  of 
imparting  to  the  offspring,  not  only  the  general,  but  many 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


257 


of  the  peculiar,  characteristics  of  the  parent.  While  it 
allows  not  the  general  order  to  be  broken  up  by  a  con- 
fusion of  the  species,  it  favors  individual  diversities,  and 
occasionally  widens  and  extends  them.  This  is  equally 
true  of  everything  that  has  life,  vegetable  or  animal. 

But  it  is  more  important  to  remark,  that  the  same 
principle  is  amply  illustrated  in  our  own  species.  Men 
do  not,  by  any  change  of  time  or  circumstance,  lose 
their  peculiar  form,  and  other  characteristic  qualities. 
They  have  the  same  number  of  limbs,  the  same  general 
features,  as  at  the  beginning,  and  walk  upright  from 
generation  to  generation.  Now  and  then  one  is  cropped 
and  branded,  or  loses  an  arm  or  a  leg,  but  this  pro- 
duces no  change  in  the  descendants  of  such  individuals. 
Their  bodily  perfection,  as  to  all  its  great  outlines,  is 
preserved  by  the  uniform  laws  of  propagation.  And  the 
same  is  true  with  respect  to  the  mind.  The  deranged 
man  or  the  idiot  does  not  ordinarily  communicate  his 
specific  calamity  to  his  offspring ;  but  the  great  law 
which  secures  the  identity  of  the  species,  kindly  provides 
against  any  such  result.  Still,  every  one  knows  that 
there  are  marked  diversities  in  the  family  of  man,  and 
such  diversities  as  lay  a  foundation  for  distinguishing 
them  into  different  races.  How  different  is  the  negro 
from  the  Western  Indian,  and  the  European  from  many 
tribes  of  the  Asiatics  !  And  this  difference  is  a  differ- 
ence not  merely  of  color,  countenance  and  form,  but  a 
difference  in  the  native  temperament  and  cast  of  their 
minds — a  temperament  and  cast  of  which  we  judge  not 
by  a  direct  inspection  of  their  mental  elements,  but  by 
their  habitudes  and  acts.  From  what  causes  this  diver- 
sity has  arisen,  it  may  not  be  easy  fully  to  determine, 
though  climate  and  modes  of  life  have  doubtless  had  a 
preponderating  influence.  But  how  this  diversity  has 
been  continued  from  age  to  age,  no  man,  we  should  think, 
would  be  at  a  loss.  For  does  not  every  one  see  that  it  is 
17 


258 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


by  natural  generation — the  offspring  deriving  their  pecu- 
liar qualities  from  their  immediate  parents,  and  they 
again  from  theirs  ?  This  is  a  fact  so  palpable,  and  so 
much  in  accordance  with  the  great  system  of  nature, 
that  we  should  be  surprised  to  find  a  man  who  would 
deny  it.  But  suppose  such  a  man  to  be  found,  and  he 
should  say,  "  I  have  no  doubt  there  is  a  connection  be- 
tween the  present  Africans  and  their  progenitors,  who 
lived  fifteen  hundred  years  ago ;  nay,  I  am  willing  to  ad- 
mit that  this  connection,  whatever  it  be,  has  had  the 
effect  of  imparting  a  sable  hue  to  the  present  generation ; 
but  then  I  deny  that  anybody  knows  what  this  con- 
nection is,  or  how  it  operates :  it  is  certain  only  that 
it  is  not  a  connection  by  natural  descent,  and  that  it  does 
not  operate  through  or  according  to  any  law  of  propaga- 
tion ;  and  this  for  two  reasons  :  1st.  The  present  gen- 
eration of  Africans  were  neither  born  nor  begotten  of 
their  ancient  progenitors,  but  of  their  immediate  parents 
who  lived  fifteen  hundred  years  since;  and,  2d.  It 
cannot  be  supposed  that  generation  has  had  anything  to 
do  in  this  business ;  for  if  this  were  the  fact,  then  the 
man  who  has  but  one  leg  would  beget  a  son  who  has 
but  one  leg,  and  a  man  who  has  but  one  eye  wTould  be- 
get a  son  who  has  but  one  eye."  I  say,  suppose  a  man 
of  this  description  could  be  found — and  in  these  days 
almost  anything  is  supposable — what  should  we  think  of 
his  theory,  and  of  the  arguments  by  which  it  is  support- 
ed ?  If  he  were  a  philosopher,  should  we  not  suspect 
he  had  not  thoroughly  investigated  his  principles,  or  that 
he  had  made  his  deductions  under  some  false  and  per- 
verted view  of  the  subject  ?  For  do  we  not  see  what  the 
relation  is,  which  exists  between  the  present  African 
and  his  distant  progenitor  ?  that  it  is  the  relation  of  natu- 
ral descent,  through  the  medium  of  intervening  genera- 
tions ?  and  can  we  doubt  that  the  same  law  of  propaga- 
tion which  God  established  at  the  beginning  has  been 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY.  259 

regularly  developed,  in  transmitting  from  father  to  son 
the  sable  color  which  now  distinguishes  the  present  race 
of  Africa  ?  And  what  is  it  but  trifling  to  say  that  color, 
and  form,  and  features,  are  not  transmitted  by  propaga- 
tion, because  a  broken  tooth  and  swollen  legs  are  not ; 
as  if  no  distinction  was  to  be  made  between  what  is  es- 
sential, or  even  permanently  peculiar,  to  a  race,  and  that 
which  is  accidental  or  adventitious  to  an  individual  ? 

Whatever  is  common  to  a  whole  species,  or  even  to  a 
well-defined  class  of  that  species,  we  say  is  natural,  be- 
cause it  is  what  occurs  to  them  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
nature,  and  what  we  expect  to  see  in  them  from  genera- 
tion to  generation.  And  why  do  we  expect  to  see  it  ? 
Only  because  we  regard  it  as  a  fact  that  like  begets  like, 
as  to  all  the  permanent  characteristics  of  the  species. 
This  is  the  law  of  propagation,  and  this  law,  with  the 
occasional  diversity  we  have  admitted,  is  the  link  which 
connects  any  one  generation  with  that  which  precedes 
it,  and  that  preceding  generation  with  the  foregoing, 
until  we  come  up  to  the  primitive  stock  immediately 
created  by  the  hand  of  God.  There  is  no  mistiness  or 
darkness  here  ;  it  is  what  the  Bible  teaches  us  to  regard 
as  the  original  appointment  of  the  Creator,  and  what  lies 
open  to  every  man's  inspection  in  the  vegetable  and 
animal  world.  I  doubt  if  a  man  on  earth  can  be  found, 
who  would  not  subscribe  to  this  general  statement.  A 
difference,  indeed,  may  exist,  as  to  the  immediate  agency 
of  Deity  in  this  order  of  things.  Some  may  attribute  it 
solely  to  the  power  of  second  causes,  a  power  inherent 
in  the  different  classes  and  orders  of  being  which  God 
produced  at  the  beginning;  and  others  may  believe  that 
his  hand  is  immediately  and  constantly  employed  in  the 
regular  production  of  the  animal  and  vegetable  tribes,  as 
they  successively  arise.  But  who  can  doubt  the  uniformity 
of  the  laws  by  which  the  various  species  are  continued, 
and  according  to  which  the  offspring  is  made  to  resem- 


260 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


ble  the  parent  from  age  to  age  ?  Let  God  work  as  he 
may,  mediately  or  immediately,  or  after  both  manners,  the 
laws  which  govern  propagation  are^he  same. 

But  how  will  the  doctrine  that  like  begets  like,  apply  to 
the  moral  character  and  condition  of  man  ?  That  it  applies 
to  his  physical  character  and  condition  to  a  great  extent, 
no  one  doubts.  It  secures  to  him  a  body  superior  to 
that  of  any  other  animal,  and  a  soul  adorned  with  various 
and  wonderful  powers,  besides  many  other  characteristics 
of  physical  nature  more  or  less  peculiar  to  his  immediate 
progenitors.  This,  we  presume,  will  be  universally  con- 
ceded. But  how  stands  the  fact,  with  respect  to  man  as 
a  moral  being,  and, 

First,  with  respect  to  his  moral  constitution  ?  Is  this 
the  gift  of  nature,  and  does  it  come  to  him  by  descent  ? 
Why  should  it  not  ?  What  is  his  moral  constitution,  but 
his  capacity  to  act  as  a  moral  agent,  involving  the 
powers  of  reason,  conscience  and  will,  and,  if  you  please, 
the  susceptibility  of  pleasure  and  pain  ?  All  these  are 
bestowed  upon  him,  as  parts  of  his  nature,  and  come  to 
him  as  other  constituents  of  his  being  come,  without  any 
agency  of  his,  and  through  the  medium  of  his  parents, 
according  to  the  settled  law  of  propagation ;  and  this  not 
the  less  certain,  whether  the  Author  of  nature  co-operates 
with  second  causes  or  does  not  co-operate.  In  either 
case,  it  is  according  to  his  will,  and  under  laws  which 
he  has  established,  that  the  human  race  are  re-produced, 
from  age  to  age,  without  losing  any  of  the  essential  qual- 
ities of  the  species. 

But  I  hear  it  asked,  is  man  a  moral  agent  the  moment 
he  is  bom  ?  This  may  or  may  not  be,  without  affecting 
the  position,  that  his  moral  constitution  is  derived  from 
his  birth,  or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  comes  to  him  ac- 
cording to  the  laws  of  natural  descent.  For  it  is  absurd 
to  suppose  that  nothing  comes  to  him  by  birth,  but  what 
is  coeval  with  that  event.  It  is  a  part  of  man's  physical 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


261 


constitution,  and  what  is  natural  to  the  species,  that  he 
should  be  furnished  with  teeth,  and  a  preparation  for 
these  organs  is  made  anterior  to  birth;  yet  he  comes 
into  the  world  without  them.  It  belongs  to  the  male  part 
of  the  species  to  be  distinguished  by  a  beard  at  mature 
age ;  but  this  natural  and  uniform  characteristic  does  not 
make  its  appearance  until  its  appointed  season.  Every 
one  knows,  too,  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  natural 
affection  existing  between  the  sexes,  and  also  between 
parents  and  children,  and  these  affections  are  often  de- 
nominated constitutional;  but  neither  of  them  is  developed 
at  the  moment  of  birth,  nor  until  long  afterwards ;  never- 
theless, they  depend  on  birth,  and  are  (infallibly)  con- 
nected with  it  as  a  part  of  nature's  great  law  pertaining 
to  the  propagation  and  identity  of  the  species.  So  this 
has  been  understood,  from  the  beginning  of  the  world, 
as  the  current  language  in  all  ages  and  nations  sufficiently 
demonstrates.  Whatever  a  man  possesses  in  common 
with  his  species,  has  been  held  to  be  natural,  in  distinc- 
tion from  what  is  artificial,  adventitious  or  acquired;  be- 
cause it  is  that  which  comes  to  him  in  the  course  of 
nature,  and  is  the  immediate  or  remote  consequence  of 
his  birth. 

Now  suppose  it  were  an  admitted  fact,  that  man  is 
not  a  moral  agent  as  soon  as  he  is  born, -nor  until  some 
months  or  years  afterwards,  still  there  is  a  foundation 
laid  in  the  very  elements  of  his  being  for  his  coming  to 
this  state.  By  the  laws  of  his  constitution,  he  approxi- 
mates to  it  every  hour ;  and  when  the  moment  of  moral 
discrimination  arrives,  he  is  placed  under  law,  and, 
henceforth,  his  moral  responsibility  is  a  permanent  at- 
tribute of  his  being.  I  ask,  was  he  not  born  to  this  ? 
Was  not  his  moral  agency  provided  for,  in  the  very  ele- 
ments of  his  existence,  and  made  as  sure  by  the  law  of 
propagation  as  the  shape  of  his  face,  or  the  existence  of 
his  beard  ? 


262  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

By  what  law  does  an  oak  produce  an  acorn,  and  an 
acorn  an  oak  ?  Doubtless  it  will  be  said,  by  the  law  of 
propagation.  Is  not  the  future  tree,  then,  provided  for 
in  the  existence  of  the  acorn  ?  JFor  what  is  the  tree, 
itself,  but  the  development  of  the  principles  involved  in 
this  germ  ?  As  is  the  one,  so  will  be  the  other ;  and 
agreeably  to  this  law  "  of  trees  producing  seed,  and  seed 
producing  trees,"  a  law  as  old  as  creation,  are  the  various 
kinds  of  trees  perpetuated,  and  their  several  species  pre- 
served. The  same  thing  takes  place  throughout  the  ani- 
mal world,  rational  and  irrational.  But  the  point  which 
we  wish  to  be  prominent  here,  is  that  whatever  charac- 
terizes the  species  at  its  maturity,  as  truly  belongs  to  its 
nature,  and  therefore  propagated,  as  that  which  appears 
in  it  and  is  common  to  it  at  an  earlier  period  of  its  exist- 
ence. Of  course  I  may  admit  that  the  moral  sense  is  not 
displayed  at  the  moment  of  a  man's  birth,  and  yet  justly 
contend  that  it  is  one  of  the  elements  of  his  nature,  be- 
cause there  is  provision  for  it  in  his  constitution,  and  it 
will  be  developed  in  its  season.  He  as  truly  inherits  it 
from  his  parents,  and  they  from  theirs,  as  the  conforma- 
tion of  his  body  or  the  color  of  his  skin.  The  negro  in- 
herits his  color  from  his  progenitors,  though  he  is  not 
black  at  the  moment  of  his  birth,  nor,  as  Dr.  Good  ob- 
serves, until  some  months  afterwards.  I  do  not  see, 
then,  that  we  need  to  deny,  or  that  we  can  well  deny, 
that  a  man's  moral  constitution  comes  to  him  by  birth, 
and  consequently  here  like  begets  like.  This  was  certainly 
the  opinion  of  Cicero,  that  profound  philosopher  and  dis- 
tinguished orator ;  and  I  the  rather  refer  to  him,  because 
his  language  goes  to  justify  the  language  of  Scripture,  and 
the  language  which  theologians  have  long  since  adopted 
on  this  subject.  Speaking  of  the  effort  which  man  nat- 
urally makes  to  defend  his  own  life  when  assailed,  he 
says  this  is  nature's  law ;  "  a  law  not  written,  but  born 
with  us;  a  law  which  we  have  not  learned,  received  or 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY.  263 

read,  but  which  we  have  taken,  drawn  and  sucked  from 
nature  herself;  in  which  we  were  not  taught,  Uniformed 
or  made,  not  instructed,  but  imbued"  (See  Oration  for 
Milo,  and  Pictet.  393,  Book  IX.,  chapter  viii.)  Cicero 
here  speaks  of  a  part  of  nature's  great  law,  namely,  that 
which  is  concerned  in  self-defence.  And  this  he  says 
was  born  with  us,  made  with  us;  that  it  comes  not  by  in- 
struction or  art,  but  is  inherent  in  our  constitution  •  we 
are  naturally  imbued  with  it.  Not  that  we  literally  be- 
gin to  defend  ourselves  as  soon  as  we  are  born,  and  before 
we  know  what  aggression  is ;  but  that  we  inherit  a 
constitution  which,  when  properly  developed,  will  come 
to  this.  Nature  will  teach  us  this  law  of  self-defence, 
not  only  as  a  matter  of  necessity,  but  as  a  matter  of 
right,  and  of  course  that  we  are  not  to  blame  when  we 
act  according  to  its  dictates.  Cicero's  object  was  to  ex- 
culpate a  man  who  had  killed  another  in  his  own  de- 
fence, and  therefore  contended  that  this  was  not  only 
natural  but  lawful,  as  it  was  in  accordance  with  that 
great  law  of  righteousness  written  upon  the  hearts  of 
ALL  men — a  law  as  universal  as  the  species,  and  the 
same  at  Athens  as  at  Rome.  But  if  this  law  was  born 
with  us,  then  we  were  born  with  a  moral  constitution ; 
for  to  have  such  a  law  and  to  possess  a  moral  constitution, 
are  one  and  the  same  thing,  or,  to  say  the  least,  they  mu- 
tually imply  each  other.  What  is  natural  to  us,  this 
celebrated  man  deemed  it  proper  to  say  was  born  with 
us,  because  inherent  in  our  constitution,  or  in  the  cir- 
cumstances and  condition  in  which  nature  has  placed  us. 
It  by  no  means  follows,  however,  that  he  either  supposed 
or  maintained,  that  whatsoever  is  born  with  us  is  abso- 
lutely coetaneous  with  our  birth  ;  but  that  whatsoever  is 
derived  to  us  from  this  source,  and  common  to  the  spe- 
cies, might  properly  be  said  to  be  made  or  born  with  us, 
because  it  pertains  to  that  nature  and  condition  which 
we  inherit  from  our  parents.  We  are  prepared  now  to 


254  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

renew  the  inquiry,  whether  like  begets  like  as  to  moral 
character  ? 

We  have  seen,  if  we  mistake  not,  the  truth  of  this 
doctrine,  in  relation  to  many  of  our  physical  qualities, 
and  no  less  certainly  with  respect  to  the  fact  of  our 
moral  constitution.  Now,  is  the  same  thing  true  with 
respect  to  moral  character,  the  immediate  result  of  a  moral 
constitution  ?  I  confess  I  can  see  no  reason  for  doubt ; 
the  evidence  of  fact  seems  to  be  the  same  in  both  cases, 
and  the  voice  of  the  Scriptures  equally  distinct  and  im- 
perative. What  is  the  immediate  result  of  our  moral 
constitution?  Most  certainly  that  we  have  a  moral 
character,  and  that  that  character  is  a  sinful  one.  This  is 
not  denied  by  those  with  whom  we  contend.  They  ad- 
mit that  we  sin  as  soon  as  we  are  capable  of  it,  and  that 
we  sin  uniformly  and  continuously,  until  renewed  by  the 
Divine  Spirit.  They  admit  this  fact  to  be  as  universal 
as  reason  or  conscience,  or  any  other  permanent  charac- 
teristic of  man.  They  allow,  too,  that  a  state  of  sin 
comes  upon  all  men  as  surely  as  a  moral  constitution 
comes,  and  that  it  comes  at  the  same  time,  and  in  the 
same  circumstances;  the  two  things  being  always  found 
in  close  and  inseparable  connection.  Is  not  one,  then, 
just  as  natural  as  the  other  ?  and  are  we  not  born  to  the 
one  as  truly  as  we  are  born  to  the  other  ?  One  we  regard 
as  hereditary,  because  common  to  the  species,  and  a  sure 
and  unfailing  consequence  of  birth.  Why  should  we 
not  so  regard  the  other  for  the  same  reasons,  since  that 
also  is  alike  common  to  man,  and  the  certain  consequence 
of  his  natural  descent  ?  It  makes  no  difference  that  one 
relates  to  the  capacity  of  moral  action,  and  the  other  to 
moral  action  itself;  for  both  flow  from  causes  equally 
connected  with  our  birth,  and  both  are  distinguishing 
and  permanent  attributes  of  man  in  his  natural  state. 
With  equal  propriety,  we  say  it  is  natural  for  a  bird  to 
have  wings,  and  a  bird  to  fly ;  the  organ  and  the  action, 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY.  265 

the  power  and  the  exercise  of  that  power,  follow  the  same 
law  of  descent.  This  is  as  true  of  man  as  of  the  lower 
order  of  creatures,  and  as  true  of  him  in  relation  to  his 
moral  as  to  his  physical  character.  The  constitution  he 
receives,  and  the  circumstances  in  which  he  is  placed, 
determine  both  his  powers  of  action,  and  the  distinctive 
character  of  his  acts,  whether  physical  or  moral. 

But  where,  it  may  be  asked,  is  the  propriety  of  com- 
paring man,  who  is  a  moral  agent,  with  creatures  that 
are  not  moral  agents  ?  Their  powers  and  acts  may  well 
be  supposed  to  be  natural,  since  they  flow  from  their 
physical  constitution,  and  from  the  circumstances  in 
which  nature  has  placed  them.  But  man  is  of  another 
order  of  being,  and,  as  a  moral  agent,  must  be  supposed 
to  have  a  natural  or  physical  power  of  doing  differently 
from  what  he  does,  especially  when  he  sins. 

We  admit  that  man  is  a  moral  agent,  and  that,  ab- 
stractly considered,  he  has  a  physical  power  of  doing 
differently  from  what  he  does.  But  what  is  this  to 
the  purpose?  Every  voluntary  being,  moral  agent  or 
otherwise,  has  a  physical  power  of  doing  differently  from 
what  he  does ;  but  this  makes  no  difference  as  to  the 
fact  of  what  he  will  do,  or  of  what  it  is  natural  for  him  to 
do.  Some  horses  have  two  gaits:  they  trot,  or  they 
pace,  as  they  please ;  but  ordinarily,  one  gait  is  more 
natural  than  the  other,  and  of  course  more  likely  to  be 
chosen.  A  dog  can  walk  on  three  legs  or  on  four,  but 
it  is  more  natural  for  him  to  walk  on  four,  and  we  ex- 
pect, of  course,  to  see  him  on  four,  unless  some  unlucky 
accident  induce  him  to  hold  up  one  leg  while  he  goes 
upon  three.  A  physical  power  in  man,  or  in  an  animal, 
of  doing  differently  from  what  he  does,  cannot  hinder 
one  course  of  action  from  being  more  natural  than 
another,  nor  make  it  improper  to  say  that  he  was  born 
to  one  course  rather  than  the  other.  We  judge  of  what 
is  natural  by  experience,  and  where  we  have  no  point 


256  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

to  carry,  we  never  doubt  that  nature  has  a  hand  in  those 
actions  which  we  perceive  to  be  common  to  the  species. 
This  is  the  unbiased  voice  of  reason,  as  to  those  actions 
in  men  which  we  denominate  physical.  We  say  they 
eat,  they  drink,  they  walk,  as  nature  has  taught  them ; 
and  though  these  actions  are  often  modified  by  custom 
or  fashion,  yet  their  certainty  and  their  general  character 
are  determined  by  the  powers  which  nature  has  given, 
and  by  the  circumstances  in  which  these  powers  are 
developed. 

For  aught  that  appears,  the  same  thing  holds  true  with 
respect  to  their  moral  actions.  The  very  moment  they 
commence  their  moral  existence — and  we  care  not  when 
it  is — they  commence  a  course  of  moral  action,  and  this 
course,  by  the  admission  of  all  parties,  is  a  uniformly 
sinful  course.  They  sin  as  soon  as  they  are  capable  of 
it,  and  sin  continuously,  unless  prevented  by  a  power 
which  is  extrinsic  to  themselves,  and  a  power  which  is 
almighty.  But  this,  we  are  told,  is  a  great  mystery — a 
mystery  which  nobody  can  solve — a  fact  which  neither 
the  Book  of  Nature  nor  the  Book  of  Revelation  has 
explained.  But  we  ask,  why  not  explain  it,  as  we 
explain  the  natural  but  voluntary  actions  of  animals  ? 
and  as  we  explain  the  voluntary  but  merely  physical 
actions  of  man?  These,  we  are  ready  to  admit,  flow 
from  constitutional  principles,  and  from  the  objects  which 
excite  them,  a  physical  power  to  the  contrary  notwith- 
standing, Why  should  our  great  modesty  prevent  us 
from  reasoning  in  the  one  case,  as  all  the  world  have 
agreed  to  reason  in  the  other  1  The  only  objection  I 
can  see  is,  that  then  we  should  be  compelled  to  believe, 
not  in  physical  depravity,  concerning  which  some  persons 
have  a  moon- stricken  fear,  but  in  the  fact  that  men  are, 
by  nature,  morally  depraved;  that  is,  that  they  come  into 
the  world  with  such  powers  and  susceptibilities,  and  in 
such  circumstances,  that  without  special  Divine  interpo- 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY.  267 

sition,  they  will  sin,  and  only  sin,  to  the  end  of  their 
course.  Admit  this,  and  we  have  a  uniform  cause  for  a 
uniform  effect,  and  one,  too,  which  lies  open  to  every 
man's  observation,  and  which,  we  shall  presently  show, 
is  distinctly  recognized  in  the  Word  of  God.  Deny  this, 
and  we  must  say  that  the  uniform  sinfulness  of  men  has 
no  cause,  or  none  which  is  adequate,  unless  we  resort  to 
the  immediate  agency  of  God. 

Take  another  illustration.  Man  has  a  moral  constitu- 
tion. How  did  he  come  by  it  ?  Plainly  by  his  birth,  as 
all  his  other  powers  and  principles  came.  But  can  he 
have  a  moral  constitution,  without  making  moral  dis- 
criminations ?  The  moment  his  moral  powers  enable 
him  to  decide  between  right  and  wrong,  he  will  decide 
between  them,  and  continue  thus  to  decide,  more  or  less 
correctly,  as  long  as  he  continues  his  moral  being.  It 
does  not  follow,  indeed,  that  he  will  always  decide 
justly,  unless  it  could  be  proved  that  the  moral  sense  is 
an  infallible  guide  to  moral  action.  The  common  opin- 
ion, and  which  we  take  to  be  the  true  one,  is,  that  it 
often  makes  erroneous  decisions  which  it  must  and  will 
correct,  as  new  light  is  poured  upon  the  understanding. 
But  the  point  which  we  wish  to  be  noticed  is,  that  the 
fact  of  having  a  moral  constitution  will  draw  after  it  acts 
of  moral  discrimination,  and  these  more  or  less  correct 
as  the  judgment  is  informed.  Does  not  correct  usage, 
then,  warrant  us  to  say,  that  as  it  is  natural  to  man  to 
have  a  moral  constitution,  so  it  is  no  less  natural  that  he 
should  make  moral  distinctions  ?  for  how  do  we  know 
that  he  has  such  a  constitution,  but  from  the  fact  of  his 
making  these  distinctions  ?  The  existence  of  the  power 
and  the  exercise  of  it  are  closely  conjoined.  Hence,  if 
one  be  from  nature,  the  other  must  be  from  nature  also- 
For  it  would  be  absurd  to  suppose  that  the  cause  is  de- 
rived from  a  particular  source,  but  not  the  effect  which 
flows  from  the  cause.  If  a  tree  produce  a  branch,  and 


268  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

the  branch  a  bud,  and  the  bud  fruit,  do  we  not  refer  the 
branch,  the  bud  and  the  fruit,  to  the  parent  tree,  which, 
seriatim,  produced  them  all  ?  On  this  principle  it  is  that 
men  have  always  agreed  to  call  that  natural,  which  was 
traceable  to  birth,  whether  the  thing  so  traced  related 
to  a  power,  or  to  the  exercise  of  a  power — whether  it 
were  something  coetaneous  with  birth,  or  did  not  arrive 
until  months  or  years  afterwards.  Cicero,  who  under- 
stood the  power  of  language  as  well  as  any  other  man, 
did  not  consider  it  a  departure  from  correct  usage  to  say 
that  the  law  which  leads  us  to  distinguish  between  right 
and  wrong,  was  born  with  us  ;  and,  of  course,  that  the  fact 
of  our  thus  distinguishing  was  from  nature,  because  de- 
rived from  our  birth.  The  power,  and  the  exercise  of 
the  power,  were  obviously  in  his  view  from  the  same 
source.  Now  if  we  take  but  a  single  step  more,  and  a 
step  which  seems  unavoidable  from  those  already  taken, 
and  we  come  to  the  entire  powers  of  a  moral  agent 
placed  under  law,  and  to  his  acts  in  relation  to  that  law, 
the  very  existence  of  the  moral  sense  supposes  and  im- 
plies all  other  powers  essential  to  a  moral  agent.  But 
the  moment  a  man  exists  as  a  moral  agent,  he  will  act 
as  a  moral  agent,  and  either  obey  or  disobey  the  law  of 
his  duty ;  or,  if  it  should  be  said  he  may  fail  of  his  duty 
by  not  acting,  still  it  is  not  less  true  that  then  he  would 
not  be  conformed  to  the  law.  Conformity  is  holiness, 
and  non-conformity  is  sin.  Allow,  then,  that  he  sins  as 
soon  as  he  is  capable  of  it,  and  that  he  sins  uniformly 
and  continuously,  is  not  this  natural  to  him  and  what  he 
is  born  to,  as  much  as  that  he  should  be  a  moral  agent, 
or  that  he  should  make  moral  discriminations  ?  It  is 
something  common  to  the  species,  what  is  found  true  of 
them  in  all  ages,  in  all  countries,  and  under  every  mode 
of  moral  culture.  So  far,  then,  as  the  mere  facts  are 
concerned,  what  higher  proof  can  we  have  that  this  uni- 
versal depravity  is  natural?  I  do  not  mean  physical  in 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


269 


opposition  to  moral.  It  comes  to  man  as  early  and  as 
certainly  as  his  powers  of  moral  agency  come,  and  is 
developed  in  constant  conjunction  with  those  powers. 
If  I  inherit  my  moral  constitution,  therefore,  by  descent, 
I  inherit  my  moral  character  by  descent  also ;  for  both, 
according  to  the  established  order  of  things,  are  the  un- 
failing consequence  of  my  being  born  a  man,  and  not  an 
ape.  But  when  I  say  I  am  born  a  man,  I  do  not  mean 
simply  that  I  am  born  with  the  powers  of  a  moral  agent, 
for  no  specific  kind  of  moral  action  could  be  inferred  from 
this  fact  alone — it  might  be  holy,  it  might  be  sinful;  but 
I  mean  that  I  am  born  with  all  the  propensities,  powers 
and  susceptibilities  of  my  nature,  in  those  circumstances, 
and  with  those  objects,  which  have  an  influence  in  the 
development  of  my  powers.  In  such  a  birth  may  be 
found  the  proper  source  of  my  physical  and  moral  acts, 
the  one  as  much  as  the  other;  and  here  lies  the  prox- 
imate cause  of  that  readiness  and  eagerness  to  sin  which 
man  has  uniformly  displayed  through  a  thousand  genera- 
tions. Do  any  still  doubt  of  this  ?  Let  me  ask  them 
why  they  trace  the  habitudes  and  acts  of  animals  to  their 
constitution,  and  their  constitution  to  their  birth  ?  and 
why  they  do  the  same  thing  with  respect  to  the  mere 
physical  propensities  and  actions  of  men  ?  Here  they  do 
not  deny  that  nature  does  something,  nor  that  she  sup- 
plies an  all-controlling  cause  in  the  gift  of  existence,  and 
in  the  character  and  circumstances  of  that  existence. 
Why  should  they  hesitate  when  they  come  to  moral 
action,  which  as  certainly  flows  from  powers  which  are 
the  gift  of  nature,  and  from  circumstances  w^hich  nature 
has  ordered  and  provided  ?  If  they  doubt  moral  causa- 
tion, let  them  say  so,  and  we  shall  know  where  they 
are.  But  if  they  admit  it,  why  not  admit  a  cause  which 
is  evidently  at  hand,  and  which  exhibits  itself  in  the 
same  manner,  and  with  the  same  certainty,  as  causes 
which  are  concerned  in  mere  physical  action  ?  No  man 


270  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

hesitates  to  say  that  it  is  natural  for  a  father  to  love  a 
son,  and  for  a  son  to  love  a  father ;  but  why  does  he  say 
this  ?  Because  this  love  is  common  to  the  species,  and 
is  to  be  expected  wherever  these  relations  exist.  The 
stated  and  uniform  fact  is  regarded  as  settling  the  ques- 
tion that  the  affection  is  natural.  Can  any  good  reason 
be  offered,  why  the  same  uniformity  of  fact,  in  relation 
to  moral  action,  should  not  determine  this  also  to  be 
naturull  But  if  natural,  nature  has  a  hand  in  it,  and  it 
must  be  traced  to  our  birth.  To  this  conclusion  I  think 
we  shall  most  certainly  be  brought,  if  we  impartially 
consider  the  facts  in  the  case,  unless  tome  testimony 
from  the  Bible  can  be  found  to  counteract  it.  What, 
then,  is  the  voice  of  the  Scriptures  ? 

Before  making  our  appeal  to  particular  passages,  let 
me  state  in  general  terms  what  I  consider  the  Bible 
account  to  be. 

This  book  teaches  that  man,  in  his  primitive  state,  was 
made  upright,  or  in  the  moral  image  of  God — not  merely 
innocent,  and  capable  of  acquiring  a  moral  character  of 
some  kind,  but  with  such  powers  and  susceptibilities, 
and  with  such  tendencies  of  nature  arising  from  these 
powers  and  the  objects  which  surrounded  him,  as  to  make 
it  morally  certain  that  he  would  do  right  rather  than 
wrong,  unless  assailed  by  some  temptation  of  peculiar 
force,  which  should  disturb  the  natural  and  regular  de- 
velopment of  his  powers.  His  first  moral  acts,  therefore, 
were  right  and  well-pleasing  to  God.  But  temptation 
came,  and  he  fell ;  he  ate  of  the  tree  whereof  God  com- 
manded him  not  to  eat.  This  first  offence  was  followed 
by  a  state  of  unmingled  depravity,  because  it  brought 
him  under  the  curse  of  that  law  which  threatens  death 
to  the  transgressor,  death  in  all  its  forms,  death  as  opposed 
to  life,  the  life  which  he  actually  enjoyed  while  obe- 
dient, and  which  he  had  the  prospect  of  enjoying  in  a 
state  of  communion  with  his  Maker  forever.  This  death 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


271 


involved  the  loss  of  all  good,  and  the  endurance  of  all 
evil,  and  consequently  subjected  him  at  once  to  the  loss 
of  the  Divine  image,  and  a  state  of  moral  depravity — to 
all  the  miseries  of  this  life,  the  extinction  of  animal  ex- 
istence, and  endless  sufferings  in  a  future  state.  Such 
were  the  consequences  of  the  first  offence  to  Adam,  as 
we  judge,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  and  from 
the  development  of  the  curse  in  relation  to  his  posterity, 
as  well  as  from  the  provisions  made  in  the  plan  of  re- 
demption for  the  removal  of  that  curse.  The  Bible 
nowhere  expressly  says  that  Adam  became  totally  de- 
praved upon  his  first  offence,  but  it  declares  this  to  be 
the  state  of  his  posterity,  which  is  a  good  reason  for 
believing  that  it  was  so  with  him,  especially  if  it  be  true 
that  like  begets  like,  and  if  the  new  birth  was  necessary 
to  Adam,  as  it  is  to  all  other  men,  a  fact,  perhaps,  which 
none  will  either  deny  or  doubt.  Now,  if  we  mistake 
not,  the  Bible  asserts  that  a  state  of  entire  depravity 
came  upon  all  men  through  Adam ;  that  his  transgression 
was  the  occasion  of  their  transgression,  his  death  of  their 
death — spiritual  death  first — death  temporal  and  eternal 
afterwards.  Nor  is  this  all.  It  clearly  intimates  that 
these  consequences,  and  especially  a  state  of  moral  de- 
pravity, comes  upon  the  posterity  of  Adam,  through  the 
medium  of  their  birth — they,  as  his  descendants,  inherit- 
ing the  same  moral  dispositions  which  took  possession  of 
his  heart  immediately  upon  his  fall.  That  a  great  change 
took  place  in  his  moral  nature,  when  he  fell  under  the 
curse,  is  past  all  doubt.  Antecedent  to  this,  he  delighted 
in  the  character  and  government  of  God  ;  his  obedience 
was  natural,  sweet  and  refreshing ;  he  had  no  greater 
freedom,  no  greater  joy,  than  to  do  the  will  of  his  Crea- 
tor. But  w4ien  he  had  once  ventured  on  disobedience, 
all  within  was  changed ;  he  became  alienated  from  the 
Author  of  his  being,  he  dreaded  his  presence,  and  hated 
his  commands.  Passion  and  appetite  took  the  ascendancy 


272  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

of  reason,  and  supreme  self-love  became  the  master- 
spring  of  his  soul.  By  the  righteous  appointment  of 
God,  the  very  same  characteristics  were  transmitted  to 
his  posterity,  and  by  the  same  law  that  their  physical 
existence  and  attributes  were  transmitted — the  law  of 
propagation. 

Now  for  the  proof  of  this.  The  fact  is  not  questioned, 
that  as  Adam  was,  after  his  fall,  so  are  his  posterity,  in 
point  of  moral  character.  But  do  they  become  such  by 
natural  descent  ?  Our  appeal  is  to  the  sacred  page.  But 
as  the  examination  of  this  subject  will  occupy  too  much 
time  to  be  included  in  the  present  lecture,  we  shall  pause 
here,  and  renew  the  inquiry  in  a  subsequent  discussion. 


LECTURE    II. 


ON    NATIVE   DEPRAVITY. 


IN  a  former  Lecture  we  endeavored  to  establish  the 
following  principles : 

First.  That  man,  as  a  physical  being,  derives  his  ex- 
istence and  his  qualities  from  his  birth;  in  other  words, 
that  he  is  what  he  is  in  consequence  of  the  law  of  propa- 
gation or  natural  descent.  We  confined  the  remark  to 
what  man  is  naturally,  in  distinction  from  what  he  is 
artificially,  or  by  means  of  education,  and  what  he  may 
be  by  accident.  We  limited  the  remark  also  to  what 
is  common  to  the  class  or  species  to  which  he  belongs, 
and  to  those  peculiar  properties  and  qualities  which  any 
one  generation  may  inherit  from  their  immediate  pro- 
genitors. 

Second.  That  man,  as  a  moral  being,  derives  his  exist- 
ence no  less  from  his  birth,  including  what  is  essential 
to  his  moral  agency,  together  with  those  objects  and 
circumstances  which  naturally  attend  him,  and  which 
call  his  powers  into  action.  For  what  constitutes  him  a 
moral  being  but  a  moral  constitution  ?  and  what  is  this 
constitution  but  a  capacity  for  moral  acts,  taken  in  con- 
nection with  the  appropriate  circumstances  of  his  exist- 
ence ?  All  these  belong  as  much  to  the  pura  naturalia 
as  his  bones  and  muscles,  or  any  other  physical  qualities 
18 


274  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

of  his  body  or  mind.  They  come  without  his  agency, 
and  according  to  the  settled  law  of  propagation,  and  this 
no  less  certainly,  whether  God  work  mediately  or  imme- 
diately in  bringing  them  into  being. 

Third.  That  man's  physical  acts  are  derived  from  his 
birth,  inasmuch  as  their  immediate  causes  are  thus  de- 
rived ;  and  hence  they  are  said  to  be  natural  and  heredi- 
tary. They  are  not  anterior  to  his  agency,  because  they 
involve  his  agency ;  but  they  are  provided  for,  and  made 
certain,  by  his  physical  constitution,  and  by  the  circum- 
stances in  which  he  is  placed.  They  are  surely  not 
without  cause,  and  what  cause  can  there  be  but  that 
which  is  found  in  his  natural  powers  and  susceptibilities, 
and  in  the  objects  which  meet  him,  and  act  upon  him, 
in  the  state  to  which  he  is  introduced  by  his  birth  ? 

Fourth.  Acts  of  moral  discrimination,  which  every  man 
performs  as  soon  as  he  possesses  a  moral  sense,  may 
justly  be  termed  natural,  because  they  flow  necessarily 
from  the  powers  of  his  being — powers  common  to  the 
race,  and  derived  through  the  medium  of  birth,  or  ac- 
cording to  the  established  laws  of  procreation.  These 
acts  are  not  in  themselves  moral,  as  having  a  character 
morally  good  or  morally  bad,  but  are  called  moral,  as  many 
moral  causes  are,  simply  because  they  pertain  to  moral 
things.  They  are  the  exercise  of  a  power  derived  from 
nature,  and  are  therefore  themselves  thus  derived,  the 
effect  falling  into  the  same  predicament  with  its  cause. 
Hence,  men  in  all  ages  have  agreed  to  call  that  natural 
which  was  traceable  to  birth,  whether  it  were  a  power  or 
the  exercise  of  a  power,  whether  it  were  coeval  with 
birth  or  existed  afterwards. 

Fifth.  We  asserted,  and  endeavored  to  prove,  so  far 
as  the  testimony  of  facts  is  concerned,  that  the  moral  acts 
of  men,  antecedent  to  regeneration,  are  traceable  to  their 
birth,  on  the  same  principles,  and  with  equal  certainty, 
as  we  trace  their  physical  acts  and  acts  of  moral  discrimi- 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY.  275 

nation  to  that  source.  That  men  will  act  morally,  in 
consequence  of  a  moral  constitution,  is  not  doubted  by 
any  one ;  and  that  in  present  circumstances  they  will 
act  morally  wrong,  and  that  uniformly,  till  they  are  reno- 
vated by  the  power  of  God,  is  admitted  by  Calvinists  of 
every  school.  But  the  question  is,  how  does  it  appear 
that  this  uniformly  wrong  action  is  traceable  to  birth,  or 
connected  with  the  law  of  propagation  ?  Our  answer 
is,  just  as  it  appears  that  the  voluntary  acts  of  animals, 
and  the  voluntary  but  physical  actions  of  men,  are  trace- 
able to  this  source.  We  admit  the  law  of  propagation 
to  exert  a  decisive  and  controlling  influence  in  the  last 
two  cases ;  why  not  in  the  former  ?  A  cause  there  must 
be  for  this  state  of  things,  and  a  uniform  cause ;  why 
not  resort  to  that  which  is  at  hand,  and  which,  in  all 
analogous  cases,  is  deemed  satisfactory  ?  But  we  promised 
to  turn  our  attention  to  the  Bible,  and  to  make  our  last 
appeal  there.  And  as  introductory  to  its  specific  testi- 
mony, we  made  a  general  statement  of  what  we  con- 
ceived the  Bible  account  to  be.  We  resume  the  subject 
here,  and  ask,  what  does  the  sacred  page  teach  us,  on  the 
subject  of  native  or  hereditary  depravity  ?  We  are  told, 
in  the  book  of  Genesis,  that  when  Adam  begat  Seth, 
"  he  begat  a  son  in  his  own  likeness,  after  his  image." 
Does  this  relate  to  his  moral  likeness,  his  moral  image 
especially,  though  not  to  the  exclusion  of  intellectual  or 
physical  resemblance  ?  This  has  been  a  common  opin- 
ion, and  certainly  of  some  who  were  no  mean  proficients 
in  sacred  literature.  Nor  is  it  to  be  doubted,  that  the 
son  was,  in  fact,  in  the  moral  likeness  of  the  father,  if 
that  likeness  be  taken  to  mean  the  depraved  dispositions 
and  character  into  which  Adam  fell  by  his  apostacy  •  for 
in  this  likeness  has  every  son  and  daughter  of  Adam 
been  found  since.  But  the  question  is,  did  the  inspired 
penman  intend  to  teach  this  fact,  when  he  said  Adam 
begat  a  son  in  his  own  likeness  ?  If  he  did,  the  passage 


276  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

has  a  point  and  force  which  would  be  wholly  wanting 
without  it.  But  some  may  say  that  the  text  simply 
asserts  that  Adam  begat  a  son,  with  all  the  lineaments 
of  human  nature,  irrespective  of  moral  character,  and 
thus  like  himself;  that  is  to  say,  he  begat  a  son  who 
was  a  man  and  not  a  horse.  Such  a  fact  would  seem  to 
impart  but  little  information,  and  none,  as  I  conceive, 
which  could  be  turned  to  any  moral  account.  But  sup- 
pose the  likeness  to  be  moral,  who  knows,  it  may  be  said, 
whether  it  was  sinful  or  holy  ?  Perhaps  Adam  had  re- 
pented, and  become  a  good  man,  and  begat  his  son  in 
his  own  likeness  in  this  respect ;  that  is,  he  begat  him 
with  moral  dispositions  similar  to  his  own,  or  with  prin- 
ciples which  would  certainly  lead  to  these. 

Such  an  interpretation  carries  its  own  refutation  along 
with  it,  since  we  know  that  men  are  brought  to  the 
exercise  of  right  moral  feelings  in  this  way.  Doubtless, 
Seth  was  born  into  the  world  as  every  other  man  has 
been  born  since,  without  any  moral  likeness  to  God  or 
good  men,  and  without  any  preparation  of  mind  or  of 
circumstance  which  would  naturally  issue  in  such  like- 
ness. Of  course,  the  piety  which  he  is  supposed  after- 
wards to  display,  came  not  from  nature,  but  from  grace. 
Have  we  not  a  right  then,  to  say  that  this  text  bears 
strongly  on  the  fact  of  man's  native  sinfulness,  and  teaches 
not  only  a  proneness  to  sin  in  the  earliest  stages  of  his 
existence,  but  that  this  proneness  comes  from  the  law  of 
his  birth,  the  father  transmitting  a  depraved  nature  to 
his  son  ? 

Several  passages  in  the  book  of  Job  furnish  ground 
for  a  like  inference.  Though  we  cannot  appeal  to  this 
book  as  of  decisive  authority,  except  where  God  himself 
speaks,  yet  the  sentiments  of  holy  men  in  the  patri- 
archal age  are,  on  this  subject,  entitled  to  peculiar 
respect.  In  the  fifteenth  chapter  one  of  Job's  friends 
exclaims  :  "  What  is  man,  that  he  should  be  clean  ? 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY.  277 

or  he  that  is  born  of  a  woman,  that  he  should  be  right- 
eous ?"  As  if  moral  impurity  attached  to  man's  earliest 
existence,  and  flowed  to  him  as  a  consequence  of  his 
birth.  The  same  thought  is  conveyed  in  the  twenty- 
fifth  chapter :  "  How  then  can  man  be  justified  with 
God  ?  or  how  can  he  be  clean  that  is  born  of  woman  ?" 
Why  cannot  he  be  clean  who  is  born  of  woman  ?  only 
because  it  would  be  incompatible  with  that  law  of  gen- 
eration which  insures  to  the  offspring  the  same  general 
qualities  which  are  natural  to  the  parent,  and  common 
to  the  species.  And  again  (Job  eleventh) :  "  For  vain 
man  would  be  wise,  though  man  be  born  like  a  wild 
ass's  colt."  Here  the  comparison  is  strong,  and  indi- 
cates not  so  much  the  ignorance  and  stupidity  of  man, 
as  his  native  and  inherent  perverseness ;  a  perverseness 
as  instinctive  and  original  as  the  wildness  and  intracta- 
bility of  the  ass's  colt.  To  the  same  effect  Job  him- 
self speaks  (chapter  fourteenth),  when  he  says  to  God : 
"  Who  can  bring  a  dean  thing  out  of  an  unclean  ?  Not 
one."  He  had  before  pleaded  the  frail  and  transient  na- 
ture of  his  existence,  together  with  his  multiplied  suffer- 
ings, as  a  reason  for  the  Divine  compassion ;  and  now  he 
confesses,  and  pleads  his  native  corruption,  not  as  a  bar 
to  the  Divine  justice,  but  as  a  consideration  suitable 
to  move  the  Divine  mercy.  He  deeply  felt  that  he 
could  not  stand  in  judgment  with  God.  Such  is  the 
view  which  Pool  takes  of  this  passage,  and  so  far  as  I 
know,  it  is  in  accordance  with  commentators  generally. 
But  why  so  difficult  or  impossible  to  bring  a  clean  thing 
out  of  an  unclean?  The  same  reason  must  be  returned 
as  before,  because  the  law  of  propagation  insures  the 
same  moral  character  to  the  offspring  which  was  natu- 
rally possessed  by  the  parent,  and  which  was  a  perma- 
nent characteristic  of  the  race.  The  language  of  David 
in  the  fifty-eighth  Psalm,  may  reasonably  be  regarded  as 
supporting  the  same  truth,  though  perhaps  not  so  clear- 


278  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

ly  and  unequivocally.  "The  wicked  are  estranged  from 
the  womb ;  they  go  astray  as  soon  as  they  be  born, 
speaking  lies.5'  But  why  do  they  go  astray  so  early,  and 
so  certainly,  it  may  be  asked,  if  their  wickedness  be  not 
inbred  ?  if  its  immediate  causes  are  not  derived  from 
their  birth,  and  infallibly  provided  for,  in  the  very  ele- 
ments of  their  being  ?  It  is  added  by  the  Psalmist, 
"  Their  poison  is  like  the  poison  of  a  serpent ;"  not  only 
deadly  in  its  effects,  but  naturally  inherent  in  its  sub- 
ject; a  property  which  belongs  to  the  species,  and 
descends  with  them  from  generation  to  generation. 
That  this  was  the  sentiment  which  David  intended  to 
convey,  there  is  the  more  ground  to  believe,  from  the  con- 
fession which  he  makes  concerning  himself  in  the  fifty- 
first  Psalm  :  "  Behold  I  was  shapen  in  iniquity,  and  in 
sin  did  my  mother  conceive  me  ;"  or,  as  the  words  are 
rendered  by  Calvin  and  Stewart :  "  Behold  I  was  born 
in  iniquity ;  and  in  sin  did  my  mother  conceive  me."  If 
this  be  not  a  confession  of  native  depravity,  or  inborn  sin, 
it  would  be  hard  to  tell  what  is ;  for  to  be  conceived 
in  sin,  and  brought  forth  in  iniquity,  mark  as  strongly  as 
words  can  do,  not  only  the  early  existence  of  sin,  but  that 
natural  birth  is  the  immediate  source  of  sin.  Surely  the 
Psalmist  must  have  supposed  that  it  came  to  him  by 
descent,  for  he  was  conceived  and  born  in  it.  But  a 
doubt  is  raised  concerning  the  interpretation  of  this  text : 
who  knows  whether  the  Psalmist  speaks  concerning  his 
own  sin,  or  the  sin  of  his  mother  ? 

Exegetical  considerations,  a  late  critic  remarks,  cannot 
determine.  But  to  what  purpose,  let  me  ask,  should 
David  speak  of  his  mother's  sin,  even  on  the  supposition 
that  she  was  notoriously  infamous,  a  supposition  equally 
gratuitous  and  incredible  ?  It  is  his  own  sin  which  he 
confesses  and  deplores  throughout  this  Psalm,  and  his 
own  forgivenes  and  sanctification  for  which  he  pleads. 
Mark  the  peculiarity  of  his  language  :  "  Have  mercy 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


279 


upon  me,  O  God,  according  to  thy  loving  kindness ;  ac- 
cording unto  the  multitude  of  thy  tender  mercies,  blot 
out  my  transgressions.  Wash  me  thoroughly  from  mine 
iniquity/'  not  another's,  "  and  cleanse  me  from  my  sin  ; 
for  I  acknowledge  my  transgressions,  and  my  sin  is  ever 
before  me.  Against  thee,  and  thee  only,  have  I  sinned, 
and  done  this  evil  in  thy  sight.  Behold,  I  was  born  in 
iniquity,  and  in  sin  did  my  mother  conceive  me;39  plainly 
turning  his  eye  inward,  like  a  true  penitent,  upon  the 
early  and  deep  pollution  of  his  heart,  as  he  had  just  before 
turned  it  outward,  upon  those  overt  acts  which  had  so 
greatly  incensed  the  Divine  Majesty ;  tracing,  as  Calvin 
remarks,  his  outward  transgressions  to  their  internal 
source — the  sinful  nature  which  he  inherited  from  his 
parents.  "  Behold,  thou  desirest  truth  in  the  inw^ard 
parts,  and  in  the  hidden  parts  thou  shalt  make  me  to 
know  wisdom ;"  words  which  show  that  his  eye  was 
strongly  fixed  upon  his  own  inward  man,  not  the  inner 
or  outer  man  of  another.  "  Purge  me  with  hyssop,  and 
/  shall  be  clean ;  wash  me,  and  /  shall  be  whiter  than 
snow.  *  *  *  Create  within  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God, 
and  renew  a  right  spirit  within  me."  This  is  the  style 
which  runs  through  the  whole  Psalm,  and  sufficiently 
demonstrates  how  entirely  his  thoughts  were  occupied 
with  his  own  case,  and  with  what  concerned  the  inner 
man  chiefly.  All  this  well  became  him  as  a  true  peni- 
tent. But  to  suppose,  as  some  have  done,  that  instead 
of  looking  to  the  early  and  deep  corruption  of  his  heart, 
and  confessing  this  hidden  source  of  iniquity,  he  turned 
away  from  his  own  sin  to  confess  the  sin  of  his  mother, 
and  in  a  matter,  too,  in  which  the  hand  of  God  rather 
than  his  mother  was  concerned,  is,  in  our  apprehension, 
a  strange  and  unwarrantable  perversion  of  the  text. 
And  what  is  to  be  gained  by  it  ?  Why,  to  set  aside  an 
important  passage,  to  which  the  church  has  uniformly 
appealed,  for  nearly  twenty  centuries,  in  proof  of  the 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

doctrine  of  native  or  hereditary  depravity.  For,  let  David 
be  considered  only  as  speaking  of  his  own  sin  in  this 
place,  and  his  single  acknowledgment  settles  the  ques- 
tion that  man  is  a  sinner  by  nature  or  birth ;  for  this  we 
shall  hereafter  show  is  the  scriptural  import  of  this  phrase. 
But  impartiality  requires  that  we  should  hear  both  sides. 
They  who  suppose  that  David  here  speaks  of  his  mother's 
sin,  and  not  his  own,  consider  him  as  simply  confessing 
that  he  sprang  from  a  corrupted  source,  and  was  the 
degenerate  plant  of  a  strange  vine  ;  having  no  special 
regard  to  the  depravity  of  his  heart,  and  much  less  to 
the  fact  that  this  depravity  came  to  him  by  descent. 
What  indication,  I  ask,  was  this  of  his  penitence,  and 
especially  of  a  heart  bleeding  with  a  sense  of  his  aggra- 
vated guilt  ?  It  was,  indeed,  a  matter  of  some  humilia- 
tion, to  have  descended  from  a  sinful  and  dishonorable 
parentage  ;  but  this  was  no  fault  of  his,  nor  did  it  infer 
his  want  of  innocence,  if  the  doctrine  of  hereditary  de- 
pravity be  denied.  It  laid  no  foundation  even  for  saying 
that  he  was  the  degenerate  plant  of  a  strange  vine.  But 
admit  this  doctrine,  and  the  language  is  full  of  import, 
amounting  to  an  ingenuous  confession  that  he  was  de- 
praved from  the  beginning,  and  depraved  by  nature  or 
birth.  I  cannot  but  think  it  was  an  oversight,  when  a 
certain  modern  critic  allowed  this  confession  of  David 
to  mean,  "  that  he  was  the  degenerate  plant  of  a  strange 
vine ;  for,  according  to  well-established  use,  this  phrase- 
ology carries  us  at  once  to  the  great  law  of  propagation, 
by  which  the  offspring  or  the  shoot  participates  in  the 
essential  qualities  of  the  parent  stock.  We  might  here 
close  our  remarks  upon  this  passage,  but  some  one  will 
doubtless  ask,  if  David  here  speaks  of  his  own  sin,  will 
it  not  force  us  to  conclude  that  he  was  actually  a  sinner, 
not  only  as  soon  as  he  was  born,  but  even  before,  for  he 
was  conceived  in  sin,  as  well  as  brought  forth  in  iniquity  ? 
I  apprehend  no  such  consequence  will  follow.  We  must 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY.  281 

give  a  true  interpretation,  but  we  are  not  always  bound 
to  interpret  to  the  letter.  David  doubtless  intended  to 
express  two  facts :  that  he  had  a  sinful  nature,  and  that 
his  nature  descended  to  him  from  his  parents  through 
the  medium  of  his  birth.  I  say  a  sinful  nature,  by  which 
I  mean  a  nature  that  would  certainly  lead  him  to  sin  as 
soon  as  he  was  capable  of  it,  be  that  when  it  may.  Less 
than  this,  I  think,  the  Psalmist  certainly  could  not  mean, 
and  I  see  no  evidence  that  he  intended  more.  To  be 
conceived  in  sin,  is  to  be  conceived  in  circumstances  which, 
according  to  the  course  of  nature,  will  infallibly  issue  in 
sin  ;  and  to  be  born  in  iniquity,  is  only  a  strong  expression 
for  being  brought  forth  with  such  a  nature  and  in  such 
circumstances  as,  according  to  a  Divine  constitution,  can 
have  no  other  moral  result  than  a  state  of  active  and 
deep-rooted  depravity. 

We  adopt  this  interpretation,  because  we  think  it 
natural  and  agreeable  to  the  usus  loquendi,  and  because 
it  presents  the  same  view  as  taught  elsewhere  of  the 
doctrine,  that  like  begets  like,  in  moral  beings  as  well  as 
in  physical.  Other  passages  from  the  Old  Testament 
might  be  adduced,  which  fully  accord  with  those 
already  examined,  but  we  have  not  time  to  consider 
them  now.  Let  me  turn  your  attention  for  a  mo- 
ment to  two  or  three  passages  in  the  New.  I  refer  you 
first  to  John  iii.  6,  where  our  Lord  teaches  Nicodemus 
the  necessity  of  the  new  birth :  "  That  which  is  born  of 
the  flesh,  is  flesh ;  and  that  which  is  born  of  the  Spirit, 
is  spirit."  He  had  just  said,  "  Except  a  man  be  born 
again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God/'  But  Nico- 
demus, not  understanding  him,  inquires,  "  How  can  a 
man  be  born  when  he  is  old  ?  Can  a  man  enter  the 
second  time  into  his  mother's  womb  and  be  born  ?"  as  if 
Christ  had  spoken  only  of  a  natural  birth.  To  correct 
this  mistake,  and  to  show  that  it  was  a  moral  or  spiritual 
birth  which  he  intended,  the  Saviour  replies,  "  Except 


282  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

a  man  be  born  of  water,  and  of  the  Spirit,  he  cannot  en- 
ter into  the  kingdom  of  God."  And  why  ?  "  For  that 
which  is  born  of  the  flesh,  is  flesh;  and  that  which  is  born 
of  the  Spirit,  is  spirit ;"  implying  that  man,  by  nature,  or 
according  to  his  first  birth,  is  altogether  sinful,  and  there- 
fore needs  a  moral  or  spiritual  change  to  fit  him  for  the 
kingdom  of  God.  Flesh  and  spirit  in  this  passage  are 
strongly  antithetical,  and  if  one  relates  to  moral  charac- 
ter, the  other  must  do  so  also.  But  does  anybody  doubt 
that,  to  be  born  of  the  Spirit,  is  to  undergo  a  moral  change, 
to  have  a  new  heart,  and  thus  be  renewed  after  the 
image  of  God  ?  What,  then,  must  it  be  to  be  born  of  the 
flesh,  but  to  be  born  in  a  state  of  alienation  from  God, 
and  under  the  dominion  of  sin — in  other  words,  in  a  state 
of  moral  depravity  ?  Besides,  it  is  expressly  asserted 
that  that  which  is  born  of  the  flesh,  is  flesh,  and  that 
which  is  born  of  the  Spirit,  is  spirit.  The  effect  in  both 
cases  partakes  of  the  nature  of  the  cause,  and  therefore 
receives  the  same  name.  From  sinful  human  nature 
proceeds,  by  natural  generation,  that  which  is  sinful; 
and  from  the  Spirit  of  God  proceeds,  by  a  supernatural 
operation,  that  which  is  holy.  In  the  one  case  man  is 
born  a  sinner,  in  the  other  he  is  born  a  saint.  The  first  birth 
is  natural,  because  it  takes  place  according  to  the  course 
of  nature,  and  is  common  to  the  species ;  the  second  is 
supernatural,  because  it  is  an  occurrence  above  or  beyond 
nature,  and  is  effected  by  the  immediate  and  sovereign 
interposition  of  God.  The  old  man  has  his  origin  in  the 
one ;  the  new  man  his  in  the  other.  Now  if  we  admit 
that  the  new  man  owes  his  existence  to  the  second  or 
spiritual  birth,  can  we,  according  to  the  rules  of  sound 
interpretation,  do  otherwise  than  admit  that  the  old  man 
owes  his  existence  to  the  first  or  natural  birth  ?  But 
this  is  to  admit  all  that  we  plead  for,  namely,  that  men 
derive  their  sinfulness  from  their  birth,  or,  in  other  words, 
that  they  are  born  sinners.  Nor  let  it  be  supposed  that 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY.  283 

we  are  carried  by  this  admission  beyond  the  point 
heretofore  contended  for,  namely,  the  certainty  of  sin 
from  this  source,  not  its  coetaneous  existence  with  the 
fact  of  man's  birth.  Such  a  coetaneous  existence  may 
or  may  not  be,  without  affecting  the  nature  of  our  argu- 
ment. Men  sin  as  soon  as  they  are  moral  agents,  and 
that  universally,  let  their  moral  agency  commence  when 
it  may  •  and  this  result  is  made  certain  by  the  law  of 
propagation.  This,  we  believe,  our  Lord  plainly  teaches 
in  the  passage  under  consideration,  and  all  that  he 
teaches,  so  far  as  natural  generation  is  concerned. 

The  celebrated  John  Taylor,  of  Norwich,  has  given  a 
different  interpretation  of  these  words  in  his  treatise  on 
original  sin.  After  repeating  the  words,  "  That  which  is 
born  of  the  flesh,  is  flesh"  his  gloss  is,  "  That  which  is  born 
by  natural  descent  and  propagation,  is  a  man,  consisting  of 
body  and  soul,  or  the  mere  constitution  and  powers  of  a 
man  in  their  natural  state.  But  President  Edwards  has 
shown  with  great  force  of  argument,  that  such  an  inter- 
pretation is  utterly  inadmissible,  because  at  war  with  the 
established  use  of  the  terms  flesh  and  spirit,  when  set  in 
opposition  to  each  other  in  the  New  Testament,  and 
when  employed  on  the  subject  of  the  requisite  qualifica- 
tions for  salvation.  And  besides,  he  might  have  said,  if 
he  does  not  say  it,  that  such  an  interpretation  supplies 
no  reason  for  the  necessity  of  the  new  birth.  If  men 
are  not  sinners  by  nature  or  born  sinners,  in  the  sense 
we  have  explained,  but  only  born  moral  agents,  it 
will  not  follow  that  they  need  a  new  birth  unto  right- 
eousness ;  they  may  be  righteous  already,  and  righteous 
from  the  beginning,  for  aught  that  appears  from  Christ's 
declaration.  Nay,  but,  says  the  Socinian,  they  must  ac- 
quire a  character,  and  a  holy  character,  before  they  can 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  Very  true.  But  who 
knows  that  this  character  is  not  already  acquired,  and 
acquired  as  early  as  they  commenced  their  moral  agency  ? 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

Christ,  by  the  supposition,  says  nothing  to  the  contrary; 
and,  of  course,  supplies  no  reason  which  makes  it  neces- 
sary for  every  man  to  be  born  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  And, 
farther,  if  the  mere  acquisition  of  a  character  not  before 
possessed  constitutes  a  new  birth,  are  not  sinners  born 
again  when  they  commence  a  course  of  sin  ?  In  their 
natural  birth  they  commenced  moral  agents,  but  without 
a  character  either  as  then  existing,  or  as  provided  for  or 
secured  by  this  birth.  When  they  began  to  sin,  they 
acquired  a  moral  character  which  was  a  second  birth ; 
they  were  then  regenerated,  though  not  by  the  Holy 
Spirit. 

But  the  Scripture  knows  nothing  of  such  a  regenera- 
tion, and  for  this  plain  reason :  it  considers  the  first  birth 
as  involving  sinful  character,  either  at  the  moment  of 
birth  or  as  its  unfailing  result  afterwards. 

Other  glosses  of  this  passage  have  been  attempted, 
but  none,  I  am  persuaded,  will  abide  the  test  of  exami- 
nation, but  that  which  we  have  advocated,  and  which 
clearly  and  decisively  supports  the  doctrine  of  native  de- 
pravity. 

The  language  of  the  apostle,  Galatians  iv.  29,  may  be 
referred  to,  as  upholding  the  same  sentiment :  "  But  as 
then,  he  that  was  born  after  the  flesh,  persecuted  him 
that  was  born  after  the  Spirit,  even  so  it  is  now."  He 
that  was  born  after  the  flesh,  it  is  evident  from  the  con- 
nection, was  Ishmael,  born,  as  Rosenmuller  says,  accord- 
ing to  the  common  course  of  nature.  He  persecuted  Isaac, 
who  was  a  child  of  promise,  and  born  after  the  Spirit,  or 
after  the  Divine  power,  singularly  manifested  in  his 
birth.  "  Even  so"  says  the  Apostle,  "  it  is  now"  There 
are  those  who  are  born  after  the  flesh,  and  who  perse- 
cute those  that  are  born  after  the  Spirit.  But  who  are 
these  that  are  born  after  the  flesh  ?  They  are  evidently 
Jews,  who  are  the  children  of  Abraham  by  natural  de- 
scent, but  who  stand  in  no  other  relation  to  him,  having 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


285 


never  been  born  of  the  Spirit.  They  persecute  those 
who,  as  true  believers,  are  Abraham's  seed,  and  who,  as 
Isaac  was,  are  born  after  another  and  extraordinary  man- 
ner; that  is  to  say,  are  born  of  the  Spirit.  Here,  then, 
are  two  births  spoken  of:  one  as  natural  and  common, 
pertaining  to  the  Jews  in  the  apostle's  time — another  as 
spiritual,  pertaining  to  true  believers,  and  peculiar  to 
them.  The  first  is  a  birth  unto  sin,  because  it  involves 
the  malignant  and  persecuting  spirit ;  the  second  is  a 
birth  unto  righteousness,  because  it  is  effected  by  the 
Holy  Ghost,  the  author  of  a  spiritual  nature  in  all  true 
believers,  and  because,  too,  by  the  fruits  of  righteous- 
ness which  proceed  from  it,  it  awakens  the  hostility  of 
the  carnally  minded,  or  of  those  who  are  born  after  the 
flesh.  The  contrast  thus  exhibited  between  the  unbe- 
lieving Jews  and  the  true  believers  in  Christ,  is  a  con- 
trast of  moral  character,  and  this  character  is  represented 
as  the  result  of  their  different  and  respective  births — 
arising,  in  the  one  case,  from  being  born  after  the  fash, 
in  the  other  from  being  born  after  the  Spirit.  Most  cer- 
tainly, if  the  character  of  true  Christians  is  here  traced 
to  their  spiritual  birth,  the  character  of  the  unbelieving 
Jews  is  traced  to  their  natural  birth.  They  are  born  after 
the  Jlesh,  and  therefore  they  will  do  the  works  of  the  flesh. 
Another  passage  which  supports  the  same  doctrine,  is 
found  in  Ephesians  ii.  3 :  "  Among  whom  we  all  had  our 
conversation  in  times  past,  in  the  lusts  of  our  flesh,  fulfill- 
ing the  desires  of  the  flesh  and  the  mind,  and  were  by 
nature  children  of  wrath,  even  as  others." 

"  Children  of  wrath,"  says  an  able  critic,  "  are  men 
who  deserve  wrath."  But  why  do  they  deserve  it? 
Because  they  are  children  of  disobedience.  That  the 
Ephesians  sustained  this  character  to  a  wide  and  fearful 
extent  antecedent  to  their  conversion,  the  apostle's  ac- 
count fully  shows.  They  had  their  conversation  in  the 
lusts  of  the  flesh,  and  fulfilled  the  desires  of  the  flesh 


286  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

and  of  the  mind.  They  were  hateful,  and  hating  one 
another.  But  how  came  they  to  be  of  this  odious  char- 
acter ?  Was  it  occasioned  by  example,  or  did  they 
grow  into  it  by  custom  ?  Did  the  enemy  of  all  right- 
eousness stimulate  them  to  their  evil  deeds  ?  No  doubt 
these  causes  had  their  influence  informing  and  finishing 
their  depraved  character.  But  there  was  another  and 
deeper  cause,  and  one  which  laid  the  foundation  for 
these  causes  to  operate  ;  and  this  the  Apostle  assigns, 
when  he  says  that  they  "were  by  nature  children  of 
wrath,  even  as  others." 

By  nature,  I  understand  here,  by  birth.  So  the  original 
word  <putfsj  is  used  by  the  Apostles,  Galatians,  ii.  15:  We 
who  are  Jews  by  nature,  and  not  sinners  of  the  Gentiles : 
that  is,  we  who  are  born  Jews.  This  is  the  original  and 
primary  meaning  of  the  term  according  to  Schleusner, 
and  so  employed  by  the  best  writers,  several  examples 
of  which  he  has  given  us.  It  may  also  be  remarked, 
that  when  this  word  is  used  by  metonymy,  it  bears  a  sense 
strongly  analogous  to  this,  and  signifies  something  which 
has  its  origin  in  generation  or  birth;  and  though  it  has 
sometimes  a  still  wider  import,  it  seems  always  to  have 
respect  to  the  natural  state  of  things.  But  that  we  have 
given  the  true  interpretation  of  the  word  in  the  passage 
before  us,  we  think  is  evident  from  several  circum- 
stances. It  upholds  a  doctrine  which  the  Apostle  in 
various  forms  teaches  elsewhere.  It  is  agreeable  to  his 
own  use  of  the  word  in  other  places,  and  especially  in 
that  of  Galatians  ii.  15.  It  makes  him  assign  an  appro- 
priate reason  for  that  depravity  of  manners  which  char- 
acterized the  Ephesians  antecedent  to  their  conversion  ; 
since  they  were  by  nature  inclined  to  that  which  was 
evil,  born  after  the  flesh,  it  was  to  be  looked  for  that 
they  would  indulge  in  the  lusts  of  the  flesh. 

Besides,  if  this  be  not  the  meaning  of  the  Apostle,  to 
what  purpose  does  he  say  that  they  were,  by  nature, 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY.  287 

children  of  wrath  ?  Their  wickedness  he  had  described 
before,  and  if  he  had  no  intention  of  tracing  it  to  its 
source,  why  did  he  introduce  the  word  nature  at  all  ? 
Having  mentioned  their  abominable  deeds,  we  might 
rather  have  expected  him  simply  to  declare  that  they 
were  children  of  wrath,  and  not  that  they  were  such  by 
nature. 

Some  have  supposed  by  nature  in  this  place,  that  the 
Apostle  intended  nothing  more  than  custom  or  use;  mak- 
ing him  to  say  that  the  Ephesians  had  indulged  in  all 
manner  of  evil,  and  were  by  custom  and  use  the  children 
of  wrath  even  as  others.  But  this  is  too  far-fetched,  and 
I  may  add,  too  absurd,  to  be  seriously  entertained.  It 
was  probably  resorted  to  only  as  an  escape  from  native 
or  hereditary  depravity.  But  there  is  no  escape  unless 
by  a  perversion  of  terms,  unworthy  of  impartial  inquiry 
and  sober  criticism.  For  allow  the  Apostle  to  say,  as 
his  words  most  obviously  import,  that  men  are,  by  nature, 
children  of  wrath,  and  there  is  no  avoiding  the  con- 
clusion that  he  traces  their  depravity  to  their  birth,  as 
its  certain  and  prolific  source. 

Let  me  for  a  moment  call  your  attention  to  1  Corin- 
thians, ii.  14.  "But  the  natural  man  receiveth  not  the 
things  of  the  Spirit  of  God :  for  they  are  foolishness  unto 
him :  neither  can  he  know  them,  because  they  are 
spiritually  discerned." 

Who  is  intended  here  by  the  natural  man  ?  All  but  Pe- 
lagians, and  men  of  Pelagian  cast,  will  admit  that  it  is  the 
unrenewed  man,  in  opposition  to  one  that  is  renewed,  and 
who  is  sometimes  called  spiritual  because  regenerated  or 
born  of  the  Spirit.  The  natural  man  and  the  spiritual 
man  are  contrasted  by  the  Apostle  in  this  very  connec- 
tion, which  is  sufficient  evidence  that  by  the  natural  man 
he  intended  the  unrenewed  man  or  man  as  he  is  by  nature, 
antecedent  to  the  sanctifying  grace  of  God.  The  natural 
man  receiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit,  he  knoweth 


288  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

them  not,  neither  can  he  know  them,  because  they  are 
spiritually  discerned  ;  but  the  spiritual  man  judgeth  all 
things.  Being  enlightened  from  above,  he  can  discern 
the  things  of  the  Spirit  so  as  no  natural  man  can  discern 
them;  their  intrinsic  beauty  and  glory  beam  upon  his 
eye,  and  call  forth  the  purest  and  warmest  feelings  of 
his  heart.  This  constitutes  a  radical  and  wide  distinc- 
tion between  the  natural  and  spiritual  man — a  distinc- 
tion which  holds  not  only  between  the  renewed  man 
and  the  sensualist,  but  equally  between  the  renewed  man 
and  the  unrenewed,  however  intellectual,  moral  or  refined 
the  latter  may  be.  To  this  no  Calvinist  will  object ; 
and  with  the  Pelagian  we  have  at  present  no  controver- 
sy. I  ask,  then,  what  is  the  import  of  the  term  natural 
as  here  applied  to  the  unrenewed  man,  or  man  as  he  is 
by  nature  ?  It  will  doubtless  be  conceded  that  it  marks 
in  him  a  state  of  deep  and  entire  depravity,  and  that 
from  the  commencement  of  his  moral  existence.  But  is 
this  all  ?  Does  it  not  point  us  to  the  source  of  this  de- 
pravity in  the  very  nature  he  received  at  his  birth  ?  It 
cannot  for  a  moment  be  denied  that  he  received  a  nature 
then,  both  physical  and  moral,  whether  all  the  powers 
and  susceptibilities  of  it  were  developed  at  once  or  not ; 
nor  can  it  be  questioned  that  this  nature  laid  a  foundation 
both  for  the  existence  and  the  character  of  his  moral 
acts.  The  fact,  therefore,  must  be  as  the  Apostle's  words 
here  seem  to  intimate,  that  man's  aversion  to  spiritual 
things,  nay,  his  blindness  to  their  intrinsic  beauty  and 
excellence,  is  attributable  to  the  nature  he  received  at 
his  birth,  and  consequently  that  he  is,  as  the  Apostle 
teaches  elsewhere,  by  nature  a  sinner  or  a  child  of 
wrath. 

Nor  will  it  avail,  by  way  of  objection,  to  say  that  the 
original  word  here  translated  natural  is  -4^x<x°£  and  not 
(putfixo^  the  more  common  and  appropriate  term  for  that 
which  is  natural — for  4"XIXO*  itself,  like  4^>  from  which 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


289 


it  is  derived,  has  often  a  meaning  sufficiently  broad  to 
cover  the  intellectual  and  moral,  as  well  as  the  animal 
part  of  man,  and  according  to  Schleusner,  is  so  employed 
in  the  passage  before  us.  Besides,  if  4>ux»xo$  were  more 
directly  and  properly  descriptive  of  the  animal  part  of 
man,  it  is  not  supposed  by  my  opponents  to  be  confined 
to  his  animal  part,  but  like  «*&  and  «*$*™s  to  be  compre- 
hensive of  the  whole  man,  and  designed  to  mark  his 
moral  depravity,  consist  in  what  it  may — whether  in  in- 
dulgence of  animal  appetite,  or  in  any  of  the  selfish  and 
malignant  passions.  But  the  point  to  be  looked  at  is,  is 
man  ^pc""*  by  nature  ?  Was  he  born  such  ?  Every  ani- 
mal is  surely  born,  wrhether  rational  or  irrational;  every- 
thing which  has  a  soul,  and  which  lives  by  breathing,  as 
the  original  word  signifies,  came  into  being  with  all  its 
natural  powers  and  propensities  through  the  medium  of 
birth.  What  more  appropriate  term,  then,  could  the 
Apostle  have  used  than  he  has  used,  to  express  the  de- 
pravity of  man,  and  to  indicate  that  this  depravity  is 
original  or  derived  from  his  birth  ? 

It  might  be  easy  to  show,  that  such  phrases  as  the 
old  man,  contrasted  with  the  new  man — the  law  of  sin, 
which  is  in  the  members,  with  the  law  of  the  spirit  of  life, 
in  Christ  Jesus — the  mind  of  the  Jlesh,  with  the  mind  of 
the  spirit — and  other  kindred  forms  of  expression,  derive 
a  peculiar  significancy  and  force,  from  the  fact  of  man's 
inborn  or  native  depravity.  This  fact  supposed,  and  we 
see  why  these  terms  are  employed,  and  whence  they 
become  so  full  of  import  on  the  pages  of  Revelation. 
But  without  this,  it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  they  came  into 
use,  and  by  wThat  means  they  acquired  that  significancy 
which  every  sound  interpreter  gives  them.  But  our 
limits  will  not  allow  us  to  go  into  a  particular  illustra- 
tion. We  conclude  our  examination  of  Scripture  testi- 
mony on  the  subject  of  man's  native  depravity,  by  refer- 
19 


290  ON  NATIVE  DEPRAVITY. 

ring  to  some  passages  which  fairly  presuppose  this,  though 
they  do  not  distinctly  assert  it. 

This  doctrine  is  involved  in  the  proposition,  that  like 
begets  like,  and  the  Scripture  recognizes  the  truth  of  this 
proposition  in  the  following  passages:  1  John  v.  1. 
"  Every  one  that  loveth  him  that  begat,  loveth  him  also 
that  is  begotten  of  him."  Why  so  ?  How  does  this  ap- 
pear to  be  a  natural  and  just  consequence  ?  Because, 
like  begets  like.  This  is  a  universal  law  ;  and  therefore 
he  who  is  begotten  of  God  is  like  God.  Consequently, 
if  we  love  the  former  we  shall  love  the  latter  also.  The 
propriety  and  force  of  this  language  depends  wholly  on 
the  admitted  fact  of  like  father  like  son.  See  also  the 
second  chapter  of  this  epistle,  verse  twenty-ninth. 
"  If  ye  know  that  he  is  righteous  (in  God),  ye  know  that 
every  one  that  doeth  righteousness  is  born  of  him."  How 
should  they  know  this,  but  upon  the  supposition  that  he 
who  is  begotten  will  bear  the  image  of  him  who  begat, 
and  vice  versa  ?  As  if  the  Apostle  had  said,  ye  may 
know  who  the  righteous  man  is  born  of,  from  the  very 
fact  of  his  being  righteous.  His  character  is  proof  of 
his  origin — that  he  was  born  of  God .  To  the  same  ef- 
fect is  chapter  third,  verse  ninth  :  "  Whosoever  is  born 
of  God  cannot  commit  sin  ;  for  his  seed  remaineth  in 
him,  and  he  cannot  sin  because  he  is  born  of  God." 
But  why  cannot  he  who  is  born  of  God  commit  sin  ? 
Because  a  holy  disposition  is  imparted  to  him  by  this 
new  and  heavenly  birth.  He  is  made  to  resemble  God 
in  his  moral  feelings  and  character.  So  also,  chapter 
fourth,  verse  seventh :  "  Let  us  love  one  another,  for 
every  one  that  loveth  is  born  of  God,  and  knoweth 
God."  But  how  does  it  appear  that  every  one  that 
loveth  is  born  of  God  ?  Because  God  himself  is  love, 
and  he  that  is  born  of  him  must  be  like  him,  if  it  be 
true,  as  the  Apostle  seemed  to  suppose,  that  like  begets 
like,  in  things  spiritual  as  well  as  in  things  natural. 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


291 


But  to  all  this  it  may  be  said,  that  mere  moral  re- 
semblance of  one  person  to  another,  may  lay  the  founda- 
tion for  saying  that  one  is  the  child  of  the  other,  and  that 
on  this  principle  it  is  men  are  sometimes  called  the 
children  of  God,  and  sometimes  the  children  of  the 
devil,  without  any  reference  being  had  to  the  deriva- 
tion of  this  resemblance.  We  cheerfully  grant  it.  But 
this  makes  nothing  against  the  argument,  that  deriva- 
tion by  birth,  whether  natural  or  spiritual,  is  regarded 
in  the  Bible  as  a  grand  source  of  moral  likeness.  If 
mere  resemblance  calls  up  the  relation  supposed  be- 
tween a  parent  and  his  offspring,  as  we  admit  is  some- 
times the  case,  it  is  only  because  it  is  a  known  fact, 
that  where  this  relation  actually  exists  the  resemblance 
is  to  be  looked  for,  as  a  matter  of  course. 

In  short,  there  could  be  no  propriety  in  saying  that 
men  are  the  children  of  God,  or  the  children  of  the 
devil,  on  the  ground  of  resemblance,  were  it  not  an  ad- 
mitted fact  that  where  the  relation  of  parent  and  child  is 
actually  found,  there  strong  points  of  resemblance  are  sup- 
posed to  be  found  also ;  in  other  words,  that  like  begets 
like.  Lay  this  supposition  out  of  view,  and  the  figure 
has  no  foundation  in  nature,  nor  out  of  it. 

We  have  now  finished  our  reference  to  the  Scrip- 
tures, on  the  subject  of  like  begetting  like,  and  more 
especially  as  this  proposition  stands  connected  with  the 
doctrine  of  man's  native  depravity. 

That  the  proof  exhibited  will  be  found  satisfactory 
to  all  can  hardly  be  expected;  but  that  it  is  both  clear 
and  abundant  I  have,  for  myself,  no  sort  of  doubt.  And 
here  I  should  rest,  without  adding  a  word  more,  were 
Jt  not  that  there  are  some  popular  objections,  to  which 
I  wish  to  make  a  brief  reply. 


LECTURE  III. 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


OBJECTIONS    CONSIDERED. 


Objection  First.  To  suppose  that  sin  is  propagated 
through  the  medium  of  birth  or  that  man  is  born  a  sin- 
ner, is  inconsistent  with  the  very  nature  of  sin.  Sin  is 
an  act,  and  can  an  act  be  born  ?  It  is  easy  to  conceive 
that  a  man  may  be  born,  with  all  the  elements  of  his 
being ;  but  not  his  acts,  and  especially  his  free,  moral  acts. 
This  objection,  as  old  as  Socinus,  and  perhaps  as  Pela- 
gius  himself,  we  have  always  regarded  as  a  mere  quib- 
ble, intended  chiefly  for  the  purpose  of  throwing  dust 
into  the  eyes.  It  is  either  a  play  upon  the  word  born, 
or  a  total  misconception  of  the  meaning  of  that  word.  It 
goes  upon  the  principle  that  nothing  can  be  born  which  is 
not  coeval  with  birth,  and  nothing  in  which  the  subject 
is  not  altogether  passive.  But  I  ask,  wrhere  do  we  learn 
that  nothing  can  be  born  with  us,  which  is  not  coeval  with 
birth  ?  We  have  shown,  in  preceding  observations,  that 
such  a  limitation  of  the  phrase  is  not  authorized  by  the 
current  use  of  language  in  the  Bible,  or  elsewhere.  On 
the  contrary,  that  whatever  is  provided  for  in  our  birth, 
and  as  a  natural  and  unfailing  consequence  flows  from  it, 
may  justly  be  said  to  be  born,  and  born  with  us.  And 
let  me  here  add,  that  in  conformity  with  this  extended 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


293 


use  of  the  term,  we  often  say  of  one  man,  that  he  is  born 
a  prince,  and  of  another,  that  he  is  born  a  beggar — be- 
cause here  is  a  state  or  condition  provided  for,  by 
the  very  fact  of  being  born,  and  by  the  circumstances 
in  which  this  event  takes  place.  In  the  one  case,  a  man 
is  born  to  dignity  and  honor;  in  the  other,  to  poverty 
and  disgrace.  Both  inherit  from  their  immediate  progen- 
itors, yet  the  inheritance  is  widely  different.  But  who 
supposes  that  the  man  born  a  beggar,  begins  to  beg  as 
soon  as  he  is  born  ?  or  that  the  man  born  a  prince,  comes 
at  once  into  all  the  fullness  and  splendor  of  his  fortune  ? 
It  is  plain  we  never  suppose  this ;  yet  we  do  suppose  that 
their  birth  deeply  affects  their  condition,  and  virtually 
makes  them  what  they  finally  are.  When  we  see  a  man 
full  of  noble  daring  on  the  one  hand,  or  characterized 
by  a  weak  and  pusillanimous  spirit  on  the  other,  we  say 
he  has  a  good  right  to  it — it  comes  to  him  by  inheritance 
— his  father  had  the  same  spirit  before  him ;  or  in  other 
words,  he  was  born  courageous,  or  born  a  coward,  as  the 
case  may  be.  Nobody  understands  us  to  say  that  these 
traits  were  developed  at  the  moment  of  birth,  but  that 
birth  laid  a  foundation  for  them,  on  the  principle  that 
like  begets  like.  In  the  same  manner  we  understand  the 
common  adage,  "  Poet  a  nascitur,  non  fit;"  and  the 
phrase,  this  man  was  born  a  thief,  and  that  a  villain.  In 
all  such  cases,  we  mean  that  certain  traits  of  mind  and 
of  character  are  natural  to  those  who  possess  them,  and 
came  to  them  by  descent.  To  suppose,  therefore,  with 
the  objector,  that  nothing  is  born  or  inherited  by  descent, 
but  what  is  coeval  with  birth,  is  entirely  to  mistake  the 
nature  of  the  subject,  and  to  misinterpret  the  language 
sanctioned  by  long  and  unquestionable  usage. 

As  to  the  second  part  of  the  difficulty  made  by  this 
objection,  to  wit;  that  an  act  cannot  be  born,  because 
that  only  which  is  passive  can  be  the  subject  of  such  a 
predicate,  this  will  easily  be  disposed  of,  especially  with 


294  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

those  who  advocate  the  doctrine  of  active  regeneration. 
If  to  be  born  of  the  Word  and  of  the  Spirit  does  not  ex- 
clude our  activity,  why  should  it  be  thought  that  to  be 
born  of  the  flesh  excludes  it  ?  Is  there  no  analogy  in  these 
cases  ?  or  is  it  so,  indeed,  that  everything  pertaining  to 
the  natural  birth  comes  to  us  without  our  agency,  and 
even  excludes  it ;  while  in  the  spiritual  birth,  the  order  of 
things  is  entirely  reversed,  and  our  own  agency  here 
becomes  the  principal  thing  ?  If  the  fact  be  so,  I  should 
like  to  see  the  proof  of  it,  and  know  by  what  secret  and 
wonder-working  power  it  is,  that  words,  kindred  in  their 
form,  change,  all  at  once,  and  so  radically,  their  obvious 
and  legitimate  import.  Till  I  am  farther  enlightened  on 
the  subject,  I  shall  be  disposed  to  think  that  such  an  ar- 
bitrary use  of  terms  looks  more  like  catering  for  a  sys- 
tem, than  honestly  expounding  the  Word  of  God,  or  even 
the  language  of  common  life. 

Doubtless  there  is  a  difference  between  the  two  births— 
their  causes  are  different,  and  their  results  are  different. 
They  are  not  brought  about  by  the  same  means,  but 
they  are  expressed  by  the  same  terms ;  nor  is  it  to  be 
doubted  that  one  is  strongly  analogous  to  the  other. 
They  both  involve  moral  character,  if  not  as  immediately, 
yet  just  as  certainly.39  For  that  which  is  born  of  the  flesh 
is  flesh,  and  that  which  is  born  of  the  Spirit  is  spirit.3' 
And  if  they  involve  moral  character,  why  not  moral  acts, 
either  at  the  moment  when  birth  takes  place,  or  at  a 
subsequent  period.  Were  it  proved  that  infants  are 
moral  agents  as  soon  as  they  are  born,  it  would  follow, 
from  Christ's  words,  that  their  sin  is  coeval  with  their 
birth,  and  that  to  be  born  a  human  being  and  born  a  sinner 
could  not  be  separated,  either  in  point  of  time  or  in  point 
of  fact.  Let  this  be  as  it  may,  however,  Christ's  lan- 
guage covers  the  fact  that  men  are  born  sinners ;  because 
if  they  do  not  sin  the  moment  they  are  born,  their  birth 
makes  their  sin  certain,  in  the  natural  order  of  things, 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY.  295 

and  that  as  soon  as  their  moral  agency  commences.  In 
their  birth  they  receive  a  constitution,  and  are  placed  in 
circumstances  which  infallibly  issue  in  sin.  Who  can 
deny  this  ?  But  this  admitted,  and  all  is  granted  that  we 
contend  for,  to  wit,  that  men  are  born  to  sin  as  surely 
as  they  are  born  to  be  moral  agents.  They  will  act 
morally  as  soon  as  the  powers  of  their  moral  being  permit, 
and  the  character  of  their  acts  will  be  decided  by  their 
birth ;  "  for  they  are  the  degenerate  plants  of  a  strange 
vine/5  to  borrow  the  expression  of  one  of  our  opponents. 

But  it  may  be  said,  this  is  to  suppose  that  their  sin 
originates  in  a  cause  out  of  their  control,  and  anterior  to 
their  volition.  And  what  if  it  does  ?  How  is  this  to 
be  avoided  ?  unless  we  resort  to  one  of  two  absurdities, 
either  that  their  sin  has  no  cause,  notwithstanding  the 
uniformity  and  certainty  of  its  occurrence,  or  that  it  was 
caused  by  some  act  of  their  own  which  was  neither 
sinful  nor  voluntary ;  and  yet,  to  suppose  such  an  act,  if 
it  were  not  absurd  in  itself,  would  be  to  suppose  some- 
thing which  is  as  much  beyond  the  control  of  the  mind, 
as  the  motion  of  a  comet  or  the  rising  and  setting  of  the 
stars.  The  truth  is,  there  is  no  avoiding  the  stubborn 
fact,  that  sin  has  a  cause,  unless  we  deny  moral  causation 
altogether,  and  betake  ourselves  to  the  self-determining 
power  of  the  will.  But  if  we  allow  sin  to  have  a  cause, 
where  can  it  lie,  but  in  our  own  powers  and  susceptibil- 
ities, and  in  the  objects  which  excite  them  ?  We  may 
say,  indeed,  that  God  is  the  cause,  and  that  by  his  imme- 
diate and  positive  efficiency ;  but  then  neither  the  Bible 
nor  sound  philosophy  will  sustain  the  position.  But, 

Secondly,  If  sin  is  propagated  through  the  medium  of 
our  birth,  how  comes  it  to  pass  that  the  Christian  virtues 
are  not  propagated  by  the  same  law  ?  Nobody  pretends 
that  faith  and  repentance,  and  other  Christian  graces,  are 
transmitted  by  birth.  Very  true  ;  and  there  is  good 
reason  for  it — facts  are  not  for  but  against  such  an  opin- 


296  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

ion.  Besides,  let  me  say  that  those  who  make  this 
objection  are  either  ignorant  of  the  great  law  of  propa- 
gation, or  have  not  carefully  adverted  to  its  leading 
principles.  Its  object  is  to  preserve  the  identity  of  the 
species,  not  to  transmit  individual  peculiarities.  What- 
ever is  common  to  the  race,  and  forms  in  it  a  permanent 
characteristic,  is  transmitted  from  one  generation  to  an- 
other ;  not  what  is  adventitious,  what  occurs  as  the  result 
of  education,  or  as  the  effect  of  some  new  and  extraor- 
dinary cause.  We  expect,  therefore,  to  see  in  the  off- 
spring the  same  number  of  limbs,  and  the  same  general 
features,  as  distinguished  the  parent,  provided  these  are 
common  characteristics  of  the  race,  and  not  the  result  of 
some  adventitious  cause.  But  we  do  not  expect  to  see 
individual  peculiarities,  and  especially  those  which  are 
not  constitutional ;  because  facts  tell  us  these  are  not 
transmitted  to  posterity. 

Now  faith  and  repentance,  and  other  Christian  virtues, 
come  not  from  nature,  but  from  grace  ;  they  are  neither 
common  nor  permanent  characteristics  of  the  species,  but 
individual  peculiarities,  superinduced  by  a  peculiar  and 
extraordinary  cause.  To  suppose  them  propagated, 
therefore,  would  be  to  violate  the  order  of  nature,  and 
intrench  upon  the  known  laws  of  propagation,  so  clearly 
defined  and  so  steadily  pursued  among  all  the  animal 
and  vegetable  tribes.  So  far,  then,  is  the  fact  alleged  in 
the  objection,  from  being  an  argument  against  the  doc- 
trine of  native  depravity,  it  is  a  confirmation  of  it,  since  it 
shows  the  case  in  all  respects  to  be,  as  we  might  justly 
expect  on  the  supposition  that  the  doctrine  is  true. 

Third.  Again,  it  is  thought  to  be  an  appalling  objec- 
tion to  the  doctrine  of  transmitted  depravity,  that  they  who 
defend  it  fail  in  their  analogies  as  often  as  they  com- 
pare this  transmission  with  other  instances  of  propagated 
qualities;  for  the  latter  have  nothing  of  the  uniformity  and 
extent  which  is  assigned  to  original  and  propagated  sin. 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


297 


That  many  qualities  which  appear  to  be  propagated 
from  father  to  son,  are  not  as  universal  as  the  whole 
human  family,  we  must  certainly  admit.  We  readily 
grant  that  a  flat  nose,  a  curled  pate,  and  a  Hack  skin,  though 
evidently  propagated,  are  not  as  universal  as  head  and 
shoulders,  eyes  and  ears ;  but  does  this  furnish  the  least 
argument  that  the  latter  characteristics  are  not  propa- 
gated also,  and  propagated  by  descent?  What  has 
uniformity  or  extent  to  do  in  this  matter,  provided  the 
properties  and  qualities  in  question  have  the  appropriate 
marks  or  signatures  of  propagation,  showing  that  they 
are  the  product  of  nature,  not  of  art  or  circumstance  ? 
The  various  instincts,  tastes  and  dispositions,  which  we 
remark  among  animals  or  among  men,  and  which,  so  far 
as  we  can  judge,  are  hereditary,  may  very  strikingly 
represent  that  disposition  to  moral  evil  so  characteristic 
of  mankind,  though  it  were  admitted  that  the  latter  is  of 
wider  universality  than  any  of  the  former.  This  differ- 
ence of  extent  supplies  not  the  shadow  of  an  objection 
against  the  justness  and  the  fairness  of  the  analogy. 

But  the  advocates  for  transmitted  depravity  do  net 
confine  their  analogies  to  qualities  limited  to  a  part  of 
the  race,  but  embrace  in  their  comparison  qualities  as 
universal  as  the  species.  They  contend  that  sin  is  as 
natural  to  man  as  to  eat  or  to  drink,  to  be  hungry  or 
thirsty  ;  that  his  moral  character  is  as  truly  derived  from 
his  birth — that  character,  we  mean,  which  is  original  and 
primary — as  the  powers  of  his  moral  being,  his  reason, 
conscience,  or  any  other  faculty.  The  objection,  there- 
fore, of  the  want  of  uniformity  and  extent  in  the  analogies 
appealed  to  in  favor  of  hereditary  sin,  is,  in  every  point 
of  view,  impertinent,  and  without  avail. 

Fourth.  Some  have  found  great  difficulty  in  this  doc- 
trine, because,  say  they,  according  to  its  advocates,  it  is 
made  to  depend,  not  on  our  immediate  ancestor,  but 
upon  our  connection  with  Adam. 


298  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

I  cannot  but  suspect  some  mistake  here.  For  no  en 
lightened  advocate  for  the  doctrine  in  question  would 
be  apt  to  say  that  sin  was  hereditary,  and  yet  not  hered- 
itary;  that  it  comes  to  all  by  generation  or  natural  de- 
scent, and  yet  that  natural  descent  has  nothing  to  do 
with  it,  as  surely  it  cannot  have,  if  the  depravity  of  the 
child  is  no  way  connected  with  the  depravity  of  the 
parent  from  whom  he  has  descended.  The  truth  un- 
questionably is,  that  we  are  all  connected  with  Adam,  and 
that  his  one  offence  brought  sin  upon  us  all;  "for  by  the 
disobedience  of  one,  many  were  made  sinners/'  But 
how  are  we  connected  with  him,  unless  by  the  fact  of  our 
being  his  posterity — his  natural  descendants  ?  But  can 
we  be  his  descendants,  without  descending  from  him 
through  the  medium  of  intervening  generations,  and 
consequently  without  derivation  from  our  immediate 
parents,  one  of  those  generations  ?  It  must  be  strange, 
therefore,  to  say  that  our  depravity  depends  on  our  con- 
nection with  Adam,  but  not  on  our  immediate  ancestor, 
when  it  obviously  depends  on  both;  seeing  our  very 
connection  with  Adam  depends  on  the  relation  we  hold 
to  our  immediate  ancestor,  as  one  of  his  descendants. 
But  if  any  man  has  been  incautious  or  absurd  enough  to 
make  the  statement  objected  to,  the  doctrine  of  native 
depravity  itself  ought  not  to  be  drawn  into  question  in 
consequence  of  it.  It  needs  no  such  statement  for  its 
defence,  nor  is  it  in  the  remotest  degree  connected  with 
any  such  view  of  the  case. 

Fifth.  Another  objection  to  this  doctrine  is  found  in 
the  language  of  those  who  describe  the  depravity  of  our 
nature  as  something  uniform  and  invariable  in  all  cir- 
cumstances, ages  and  individuals,  implying,  as  the  ob- 
jector supposes,  that  this  depravity  is  equal  in  all  cases, 
and  strictly  immutable,  being  incapable  either  of  addition 
or  diminution.  But  the  whole  difficulty  here  lies  in 
giving  an  extent  of  meaning  to  the  terms  uniform  and 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY.  299 

invariabk,  which  nobody  ever  dreamed  of  or  imagined 
but  the  objector  himself.  Were  I  to  say  that  reason  or 
conscience,  or  natural  affection,  is  a  uniform  and  invariable 
characteristic  of  man,  found  in  all  circumstances,  ages 
and  individuals,  where  the  proper  period  has  arrived  for 
its  development,  would  any  person  understand  me  to 
assert  that  reason,  or  conscience  or  affection,  was  precisely 
the  same  thing  in  all  men,  at  all  times  and  in  all  circum- 
stances, so  that  no  diversity  whatever  could  exist  as  to 
modification  or  extent  ?  Nothing,  surely,  could  be  more 
strained  or  absurd  than  such  a  construction  of  my 
words. 

Objection  sixth.  We  are  told,  says  an  objector,  that 
original  sin  is  the  cause  and  ground  of  all  actual  sin ;  and 
yet  that  original  sin  is  equal,  uniform  and  invariable,  in 
all.  Of  course  that  all  are  equally  depraved,  and  under 
like  temptations  must  exhibit  the  very  same  degree  of 
wickedness,  a  thing  which  every  one  knows  is  contrary 
to  fact.  This  is  another  appalling  objection ;  but  the 
whole  force  of  it  depends  upon  the  strained  interpreta- 
tion put  upon  the  words  equal,  uniform  and  invariable. 
Give  them  the  import  which,  in  all  such  connections, 
they  are  manifestly  designed  to  have,  and  no  such  absurd 
or  contradictory  consequence  as  the  objection  contem- 
plates will  ever  follow.  Natural  affection,  in  a  very  im- 
portant sense  of  the  term,  is  uniform  and  invariable — that 
is,  it  belongs  to  all  as  a  constitutional  principle,  provided 
for  in  the  very  elements  of  their  being ;  but  it  does  not 
always  exist  with  the  same  strength  or  intensity.  It  is, 
moreover,  equally  true  of  all,  so  that  there  is  an  equality 
in  men  in  this  respect,  and  not  a  disparity.  Nobody 
contends  that  it  has  exactly  the  same  force  in  all,  and  at 
all  times ;  nor  is  there  a  man  on  earth,  I  presume,  that 
contends  that  original  sin_has  the  same  force  in  all,  and 
at  all  times,  if  by  original  sin  be  meant  depravity  of 
heart,  and  depravity  by  nature.  It  is  true  that  men  are 


300  ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 

equally  destitute  of  original  righteousness.  Here  there 
is  no  disparity ;  but  as  to  their  readiness  and  eagerness 
to  sin,  and  to  sin  in  a  gross  and  high-handed  manner, 
there  is  undoubtedly  a  difference,  which  the  abettor  of 
original  sin  may  as  cheerfully  and  frankly  admit  as  his 
opponent. 

Seventh.  We  are  asked,  too,  and  with  an  air  of  tri- 
umph, "  If  Adam's  sin  be  propagated  in  the  way  of  natu- 
ral generation,  why  were  not  his  other  sins,  (as  well  as  his 
first  one,)  committed  before  the  procreation  of  his  chil- 
dren, propagated  to  his  descendants?  and  so  his  penitence 
and  pardon  in  like  manner  ? 

Whether  such  a  question  was  put  from  oversight  or 
design,  it  may  be  hard  to  say ;  but  that  the  point  in  de- 
bate is  overlooked  is  most  certain.  The  question  in  dis- 
pute is,  not  whether  a  single  act,  or  more  acts  than  one, 
are  transmitted  by  propagation,  but  whether  a  similar 
nature,  as  the  cause  of  similar  acts,  is  so  transmitted  ? 
When  we  speak  of  reason  or  conscience,  as  born  with  a 
man,  or  propagated  from  father  to  son,  we  have  no  refer- 
ence to  this  or  that  particular  act  of  reason  or  conscience, 
but  to  the  principles  from  which  such  acts  flow,  and  by 
consequence  to  the  acts  themselves,  Reason  or  con- 
science, we  say,  is  propagated,  because  involved  in  that 
very  constitution  which  appertains  to  a  rational  and  moral 
being,  and  which  every  man  derives  from  his  birth  ;  and 
having  this  constitution  he  is  sure  to  develop  it,  not  in 
another's  acts  but  his  own,  and  in  such  acts  as  corre- 
spond to  the  powers  of  reason  and  conscience  which  he 
has  received.  In  like  manner,  those  who  believe  that 
sin  is  propagated,  do  not  believe  that  this  or  that  sin, 
considered  as  the  personal  act  of  another,  is  propagated, 
but  only  a  moral  nature,  so  circumstanced  as  to  secure  a 
sinful  conduct  in  those  to  whom  this  nature  appertains. 

With  this  explanation  of  the  true  nature  of  the  case, 
it  will  be  easily  seen  that  the  objection  implied  in  the 


ON    NATIVE    DEPRAVITY. 


301 


above  question  has  no  foundation,  but  in  the  abuse  of 
terms. 

Eighth.  And  the  same  may  be  said  of  another  objec- 
tion, taken  from  the  same  author,  namely  :  "  If  propaga- 
tion be  the  ground  of  transmitting  sin,  then  why  are  not 
all  the  sins  of  all  our  ancestors,  from  Adam  down  to  our- 
selves, brought  down  upon  us,  and  propagated  to  us  ?" 
Sure  enough.  But  here  the  mistake  is  the  same  as  be- 
fore ;  individual  acts  are  supposed  to  be  propagated  from 
one  person  to  another,  and  not  constitutional  principles 
with  their  attendant  circumstances,  from  which  like  or 
similar  acts  flow.  A  nature  may  be  transmitted  by  pro- 
pagation, along  with  the  being  who  inherits  it ;  but  not 
the  personal  act  of  one,  so  as  to  become  the  personal 
act  of  another.  This  would  be  to  confound  all  notions 
of  personal  distinction,  and  individual  responsibility.  No 
defender  of  the  doctrine  of  native  or  hereditary  depravity, 
has  occasion  to  .  resort  to  any  such  absurdity.  And  to 
suppose  that  he  has,  is  to  misinterpret  the  doctrine,  and 
to  apply  to  it  language  which  it  neither  justifies  nor  em- 
ploys. 


LECTURE    XIII. 


EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 


WHETHER  Christ  died  for  all  men,  or  for  a  part  only  ? 
is  a  question  which  has  been  much  agitated,  since  the 
Reformation,  though,  according  to  Milner,  the  Church, 
from  the  earliest  ages,  rested  in  the  opinion  that  Christ 
died  for  aU.  He  does  not  except  even  Augustine,  whom 
Prosper,  his  admirer  and  follower,  and  a  strict  Predesti- 
narian,  represents  as  maintaining  that  Christ  gave  him- 
self a  ransom  for  all  ;*  so  far,  at  least,  as  to  make  pro- 
vision for  their  salvation,  by  removing  an  impediment 
which  would  otherwise  have  proved  fatal.  The  early 
Christians  seemed  to  go  upon  the  principle,  that  as  sal- 
vation was  indiscriminately  tendered  to  all,  it  must  have 
been  provided  for  all,  and  thus  made  physically  possible  to 
all,  where  the  Gospel  comes ;  otherwise,  the  Deity  would 
be  represented  as  tendering  that  to  his  creatures  which 
wras  in  no  sense  within  their  reach,  and  which  they  could 
not  possibly  attain,  whatever  might  be  their  dispositions. 

Among  those  who  leaned  strongly  to  what  are  called 
the  doctrines  of  grace,  the  maxim  was  adopted,  "  That 
Christ's  death  was  sufficient  for  aU,  and  efficient  for  the  elect'' 
By  which  they  seem  to  have  intended,  that  while  Christ's 

*  Vol.  IL,  page  445. 


EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT.  3Q3 

death  opened  the  door  for  the  salvation  of  all,  so  far  as 
an  expiatory  sacrifice  was  concerned,  it  was  designed, 
and  by  the  sovereign  grace  of  God,  made  effectual,  to  the 
salvation  of  the  elect.  Their  belief  was,  that  Christ 
died  intentionally  to  save  those  who  were  given  to  him 
in  the  covenant  of  redemption ;  but  it  does  not  appear 
that  they  supposed  his  death,  considered  merely  as  an 
expiatory  offering,  had  any  virtue  in  it,  in  relation  to  the 
elect,  which  it  had  not  in  relation  to  the  rest  of  mankind. 
With  respect  to  the  ultimate  design  of  this  sacrifice,  or  the 
application  which  God  would  make  of  it,  they  doubtless 
supposed  there  was  a  difference ;  but  in  the  sacrifice  itself, 
or  in  its  immediate  end,  the  demonstration  of  God's  righteous- 
ness, they  could  see  no  difference.  In  this  view,  it  was 
precisely  the  same  thing,  as  it  stood  related  to  the  elect 
and  to  the  non-elect.  The  sacrificial  service  was  one  and 
the  same,  appointed  by  the  same  authority,  and  for  the 
same  immediate  purpose,  and  performed  by  the  same 
glorious  Personage,  at  the  very  same  time.  It  wanted 
nothing  to  constitute  it  a  true  and  perfect  sacrifice  for 
sin,  as  it  stood  related  to  the  whole  world ;  it  was  but 
this  true  and  perfect  sacrifice,  as  it  stood  related  to  the 
elect.  Any  other  view  would  have  overturned  its  suffi- 
ciency for  all  mankind  •  for  it  was  not  the  sufficiency  of 
Christ  to  be  a  sacrifice,  but  his  sufficiency  as  a  sacrifice  for 
the  whole  world,  that  they  maintained.  And  in  perfect 
accordance  with  this,  they  held  that  this  most  perfect 
sacrifice  was  efficient  for  the  elect.  But  how  was  it  effi- 
cient ?  Not  by  its  having  in  it  anything  in  regard  to  the 
elect  which  it  had  not  in  regard  to  others ;  for,  intrinsically 
considered,  it  was  the  same  to  both,  a  true  and  perfect 
sacrifice  for  sin ;  but  it  was  the  purpose  of  God,  in  ap- 
pointing it,  that  it  should  issue  in  the  salvation  of  his 
chosen.  This  was  the  use  he  intended  to  make  of  it  ; 
nay,  it  was  a  part  of  the  covenant  of  redemption,  that 
if  the  Mediator  performed  the  sacrificial  service  required, 


304          EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 

he  should  see  of  the  travail  of  his  soul,  and  be  satisfied. 
There  was,  therefore,  an  infallible  connection  between 
the  death  of  Christ  and  the  salvation  of  his  people  ;  and, 
of  course,  his  death  was  efficient  in  procuring  their  salva- 
tion, it  being  the  great  medium  through  which  the  saving 
mercy  of  God  flowed,  and  connected  both  by  the  pur- 
pose and  promise  of  God  with  the  bestowment  of  that 
mercy. 

But  even  all  this  does  not  suppose  that  the  death  of 
Christ,  considered  simply  as  a  sacrifice  for  sin,  had  any- 
thing in  it  peculiar  to  the  elect,  or  that  in  and  of  itself  it 
did  anything  for  them  which  it  did  not  do  for  the  rest  of 
mankind.  The  intention  of  God,  as  to  its  application,  or 
the  use  he  designed  to  make  of  it,  is  a  thing  perfectly 
distinct  from  the  sacrifice  itself,  and  so  considered,  as  we 
believe,  by  the  Church  antecedent  to  the  Reformation. 
In  no  other  way,  can  we  see,  how  their  language  is 
either  intelligible  or  consistent. 

Whether  the  Reformers,  as  they  are  called,  were  ex- 
actly of  one  mind  on  this  subject,  is  not  quite  so  certain. 
But  that  Luther,  Melancthon,  Osiander,  Brentius,  (Ecolam- 
padius,  Zwinglius  and  Bucer,  held  the  doctrine  of  a  gene- 
ral atonement,  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt.  We  might 
infer  it  from  their  Confession  at  Marpurge,  signed  A  .  D. 
1529,  as  the  expressions  they  employ  on  this  subject  are 
of  a  comprehensive  character,  and  best  agree  with  this 
sentiment.  From  their  subsequent  writings,  however, 
it  is  manifest  that  these  men,  and  the  German  Reformers 
generally,  embraced  the  doctrine  of  a  universal  propitia- 
tion. Thus,  also,  it  was  with  their  immediate  successors, 
as  the  language  of  the  Psalgrave  Confession  testifies. 
This  Confession  is  entitled,  "  A  Full  Declaration  of  the 
Faith  and  Ceremonies  professed  in  the  dominions  of  the 
most  illustrious  and  noble  Prince  Frederick  V.,  Prince 
Elector  Palatine."  It  was  translated  by  John  Rolte,  and 
published  in  London,  A.  D.  1614. 


EXTENT    OF    THE    ATONEMENT. 


305 


"Of  the  power  and  death  of  Christ,  believe  we/'. say 
these  German  Christians,  that  the  death  of  Christ  (whilst 
he  being  not  a  bare  man,  but  the  Son  of  God,  died,)  is  a 
full,  all-sufficient  payment,  not  only  for  our  sins,  ~but  for 
the  sins  of  the  whole  world  ;  and  that  he  by  his  death  hath 
purchased  not  only  forgiveness  of  sins,  but  also  the  new 
birth  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  lastly  everlasting  life." 
But  we  believe  therewith,  that  no  man  shall  be  made 
partaker  of  such  a  benefit,  but  only  he  that  believeth  on 
him.  For  the  Scripture  is  plain  where  it  saith,  "  He 
that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned" 

It  would  be  unnecessary  to  take  up  your  time  to  show 
that  the  Lutheran  divines,  with  scarcely  a  single  excep- 
tion, from  that  period  to  the  present,  have  declared  in 
favor  of  a  universal  atonement.  It  could  scarcely  be 
otherwise  when  we  consider  the  great  reverence  in 
which  they  held  their  distinguished  leader,  who,  on  vari- 
ous occasions,  expressed  himself  most  decidedly  upon 
this  subject.  To  give  but  a  single  instance.  While 
speaking  of  the  blood  of  Christ,  the  inestimable  price 
paid  for  our  redemption,  (in  his  commentary  on  1  Peter, 
i.  18,)  he  remarks  that  no  understanding  or  reason  of 
man  can  comprehend  it :  so  valuable  was  it,  "  that  a  single 
drop  of  this  most  innocent  and  precious  blood  was  abund- 
antly sufficient  for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world.  But  it 
pleased  the  Father  so  largely  to  bestow  his  grace  upon 
us,  and  to  make  such  abundant  provision  for  our  salva- 
tion, that  he  willed  that  Christ  his  Son  should  pour  forth 
all  his  blood,  and  at  the  same  time  to  give  this  whole 
treasure  to  us." 

We  know  what  the  opinion  of  the  Church  of  England 
was,  by  the  language  of  her  thirty-first  article,  which  is 
in  these  words:  "The  offering  of  Christ  once  made,  is 
that  perfect  redemption,  propitiation,  and  satisfaction,  for  all 
the  sins  of  the  whole  world,  both  original  and  actual;  and 
there  is  none  other  satisfaction  for  sin,  but  that  alone ;  " 
20 


306  EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 

and  with  this  agree  the  words  of  the  Heidelberg  Cate- 
chism, in  the  thirty-seventh  question,  which  state  that 
"  Christ  bore,  both  in  body  and  mind,  the  weight  of  the 
wrath  of  God,  for  the  sins  of  all  mankind"  to  the  end  that 
by  his  sufferings  as  a  propitiatory  sacrifice,  he  might  re- 
deem our  bodies  and  souls  from  eternal  damnation,  and 
acquire  for  us  the  grace  of  God,  justification  and  eternal 
life." 

We  are  well  aware  that  many  who  have  expounded 
this  catechism,  have  adopted  more  limited  views;  and 
that  towards  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century,  there 
was  not  a  little  zeal  displayed,  in  some  of  the  Reformed 
Churches,  in  Germany  and  Holland,  and  other  parts  of 
Europe,  in  defence  of  what  was  called  particular  redemp- 
tion. Yet,  in  the  Synod  of  Dort,  there  were  many  able 
advocates  for  the  doctrine  that  Christ  died  for  all,  in  the 
only  sense  in  which  it  is  contended  for  now,  by  that 
part  of  the  Calvinistic  school  who  plead  for  a  general  pro- 
pitiation. The  delegates  from  England,  Hesse  and  Bre- 
men, were  explicit  in  their  declaration  to  this  effect.  But 
all  were  not  of  the  same  mind ;  and,  therefore,  though 
they  agreed  upon  a  form  of  words,  under  which  every 
man  might  take  shelter,  still  it  wears  the  appearance  of 
a  compromise,  and  is  not  sufficiently  definite  to  satisfy 
the  rigid  inquirer. 

But  some  may  be  curious  to  know  in  what  light  this 
subject  was  viewed  by  Calvin,  a  man  who,  from  the  ex- 
tent of  his  erudition,  and  the  vigor  of  his  faculties,  exerted 
a  mighty  influence  over  bis  cotemporaries,  and  the  gen- 
erations which  succeeded  him.  Seldom,  indeed,  has  the 
world  seen  such  a  man.  Fearless,  as  he  was  able,  he 
examined  every  subject  with  care,  and  penetrated  far- 
ther into  the  great  doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  probably, 
than  any  other  divine  of  that  or  of  preceding  ages. 
What  did  he  think  of  the  doctrine  of  atonement  ?  Did 
he  consider  it  in  the  light  of  a  universal  provision  for 


EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 


307 


the  whole  human  race,  or  did  he  suppose  it  restricted 
in  its  very  nature  to  the  elect  ?  In  his  Institutes,  which 
he  wrote  in  early  life,  and  which  display  an  astonishing 
measure  both  of  talent  and  research,  some  have  supposed 
that  he  favored  the  doctrine  of  a  particular  or  limited 
atonement.  The  truth,  however,  is,  so  far  as  I  can  judge, 
that  he  carefully  avoids  committing  himself  on  this  point, 
and  uses  language  on  all  occasions  of  such  a  general  and 
indeterminate  character,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  discover 
what  were  his  real  sentiments.  The  probability  is,  that 
the  subject  had  not  then  been  much  agitated,  and  that 
he  thought  it  enough  to  keep  to  the  language  which  was 
generally  adopted  by  the  Church.  He  often  asserts 
that  the  death  of  Christ  was  a  full  and  perfect  sacrifice 
for  sin — that  it  takes  away  sin — that  he  died  for  us — and 
that  we  are  purged  by  his  blood ;  but  he  does  not  teach 
that  any  man's  sins  are  put  away  until  he  believes,  but 
he  plainly  teaches  the  contrary.  Having  occasion  to 
quote  these  words  of  the  Apostle,  "  Being  justified  freely 
by  his  grace,  through  the  redemption  that  is  in  Christ 
Jesus;  whom  God  hath  set  forth  to  be  a  propitiation 
through  faith  in  his  blood,"  he  remarks,  "Here  Paul 
celebrates  the  grace  of  God,  because  he  has  given  the 
price  of  our  redemption  in  the  death  of  Christ ;  and  then 
enjoins  us  to  betake  ourselves  to  his  blood,  that  we  may 
obtain  righteousness,  and  may  stand  secure  before  the 
judgment  of  God."  But  why  betake  ourselves  to  his 
blood,  that  we  may  obtain  righteousness  or  justification, 
if  his  death,  considered  simply  as  a  sin-offering,  actually 
took  away  our  sin,  and  reconciled  us  to  God  ?  For 
myself,  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  considered  the  sprink- 
ling of  Christ's  blood  as  essential  to  a  real  and  effective 
propitiation  as  the  shedding  of  it.  His  blood  shed  was 
the  meritorious  cause  of  our  reconciliation,  or  the  grand 
means  by  which  it  was  effected;  but  this  effect  was 
never  actually  produced  but  in  cases  where  his  blood 


308  EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 

was  sprinkled  or  applied,  and  that  this  blood  is  applied 
in  no  case  antecedent  to  faith,  and  without  faith.  His 
doctrine,  then,  appears  to  me  to  be  this :  That  Christ's 
death  was  the  only  full  and  perfect  sacrifice  for  sin ;  that 
as  such,  it  laid  the  foundation  for  God  to  be  propitious 
to  a  world  of  sinners,  even  the  whole  human  family; 
but  that  it  actually  reconciled  him  to  none,  so  as  to  take 
away  their  sin  and  entitle  them  to  life,  till  they  repented 
and  believed;  but  that  to  all  such  there  is  an  actual  pro- 
pitiation, an  effective  reconcilement  or  at-one-ment,  because 
by  faith  they  lay  their  hands  upon  the  head  of  the  bleed- 
ing victim,  and  his  blood  is  sprinkled  upon  them  or  ap- 
plied to  their  souls.  But  whatever  might  have  been  his 
opinions  in  early  life,  his  commentaries,  which  were  the 
labors  of  his  riper  years,  demonstrate  in  the  most  un- 
equivocal manner  that  he  received  and  taught  the  doc- 
trine of  a  general  or  universal  atonement.  This  is  dis- 
tinctly asserted  by  Dr.  Watts,  and  several  striking 
examples  of  his  interpretation  given.  But  having  ex- 
amined for  myself,  I  am  prepared  to  say  that  he  takes 
the  ground  of  an  universal  atonement  in  almost  every 
controverted  text  on  this  subject  in  the  New  Testament. 
Hear  him  on  Matthew  xxvi.  28 :  "  This  is  my  blood  of 
the  New  Testament,  which  is  shed  for  many  for  the 
remission  of  sins."  " Under  the  name  of  many"  says 
Calvin,  "  he  designates  not  a  part  of  the  world  only,  but 
the  whole  human  race.  For  he  opposes  many  to  one, 
as  if  he  should  say  he  would  be  the  Redeemer,  not  of 
one  man,  but  would  suffer  death  that  he  might  liberate 
many  from  the  guilt  of  the  curse.  Nor  is  it  to  be  doubted 
that  Christ,  in  addressing  the  few,  designed  to  make  his 
doctrine  common  to  the  many.  Nevertheless,  it  is  at 
the  same  time  to  be  noted,  that  in  distinctly  addressing 
his  disciples  in  Luke,  he  exhorts  all  the  faithful  to  appro- 
priate the  shedding  of  his  blood  to  their  own  use. 
While,  therefore,  we  approach  the  sacred  table,  not 


EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 


309 


only  this  general  thought  should  come  into  the  mind, 
that  the  world  is  redeemed  by  Christ's  blood,  but  that  every 
one  for  himself  should  reckon  his  own  sins  to  be  expi- 
ated." He  expounds  John  viii.  16  in  accordance  with 
the  same  views.  "  God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his 
only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  on  him  should  not 
perish,  but  have  eternal  life'9  By  the  world,  according  to 
him,  we  are  to  understand  "  genus  humanum,"  the  human 
race  collectively,  and  not  the  elect  as  a  distinct  portion 
of  the  world.  God  hath  affixed,  saith  he,  a  mark  of  uni- 
versality to  his  words  on  this  occasion,  "  both  that  he 
might  invite  all  promiscuously  to  the  participation  of  life, 
and  that  he  might  cut  off  excuse  to  the  unbelieving ;" 
and  this  universality  is  indicated,  he  tells  us,  not  only 
by  the  term  whosoever,  but  by  the  term  world.  "  For  though 
God  finds  nothing  in  the  world  worthy  of  his  favor, 
nevertheless  he  shows  himself  propitious  to  the  whole  world, 
since  he  calls  all  men  without  exception  to  faith  in  Christ, 
which  is  nothing  else  than  an  entrance  into  life." 

His  remarks  on  1  Corinthians  viii.  11,  12,  are  still 
more  decisive.  "  And  through  thy  knowledge  shall  thy 
weak  brother  perish  for  whom  Christ  died."  Here  the 
question  is,  what  is  meant  by  the  weak  brother  perish- 
ing ?  Calvin's  paraphrase  is,  "  If  the  soul  of  every  weak 
person  was  the  purchaser  of  the  blood  of  Christ,  he  that 
for  the  sake  of  a  little  meat  plunges  his  brother  again  into 
death  who  was  redeemed  by  Christ,  shows  at  how  mean  a 
rate  he  esteems  the  blood  of  Christ."  His  observations  on 
Hebrews  x.  26,  are  of  the  same  decisive  character.  Paul 
declares  "  that  if  we  sin  willfully  after  that  we  have  received 
the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  there  remaineth  no  more  sacrifice 
for  sins."  This  Calvin  interpreted  of  those  who  openly 
apostatize  from  the  truth  and  renounce  their  Christian 
profession — and  to  such,  he  says,  there  is  no  more  a  sacri- 
fice for  sins,  because  they  have  departed  from  the  death 
of  Christ  and  treated  it  with  sacrilegious  contempt — but 


EXTENT    OF    THE    ATONEMENT. 


310 

to  sinners  of  any  other  description,  even  to  lapsed  Chris- 
tians "  Christ  daily  offers  himself,  so  that  no  other  sacri- 
fice need  to  be  sought  for  the  expiation  of  their 


sins." 


It  is  obvious  that  Calvin  considered  apostates  as  stand- 
ing in  a  different  relation  to  the  death  of  Christ  from 
what  they  once  did,  and  different  from  that  of  other  sin- 
ners under  the  dispensation  of  the  Gospel.  That  once 
his  death  might  be  regarded  as  a  sacrifice  for  sin,  avail- 
able for  them,  but  now  it  was  otherwise  ;  having  des- 
pised him  and  being  rejected  of  God,  there  remained  to 
them  neither  this  sacrifice  nor  any  other,  but  only  a  fear- 
ful looking  for  of  judgment  and  fiery  indignation  which 
shall  consume  the  adversaries. 

Again,  on  1  John  ii.  2,  "  He  is  the  propitiation  for  our 
sins,  and  not  for  ours  only,  but  for  the  sins  of  the  whole 
world."  Here,"  says  Calvin,  "  a  question  is  raised,  how 
the  sins  of  the  whole  world  were  atoned  for  ?  Some 
have  said  that  Christ  suffered  for  the  whole  world  sufficient- 
ly, but  for  the  elect  alone  efficaciously.  This  is  the  common 
solution  of  the  schools,  and  though  I  confess  this  is  a  truth, 
yet  I  do  not  think  it  agrees  to  this  place." 

See  also  on  2  Peter  ii.  1,  "  There  shall  be  false  teachers 
among  you  who  privily  shall  bring  in  damnable  heresies, 
even  denying  the  Lord  that  bought  them,  and  bring  upon 
themselves  swift  destruction."  Upon  this,  Calvin  remarks, 
"  Though  Christ  is  denied  in  various  ways,  yet,  in  my 
opinion,  Peter  means  the  same  thing  here  that  Jude  ex- 
presses, namely,  that  the  grace  of  God  is  turned  into 
lasciviousness.  For  Christ  has  redeemed  us  that  he 
might  have  a  people  free  from  the  defilements  of  the 
wrorld,  and  devoted  to  holiness  and  innocence.  Who- 
ever, therefore,  shake  off  the  yoke  and  throw  them- 
selves into  all  licentiousness,  are  justly  said  to  deny 
Christ,  by  whom  they  were  redeemed." 

To  the  same  purpose  are  his  remarks  on  Jude,  verse 


EXTENT    OF    THE    ATONEMENT. 


311 


fourth :  "  Turning  the  grace  of  God  into  lasciviousness, 
and  denying  the  only  Lord  God,  and  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ."  "  His  meaning  is,"  says  Calvin,  "  that  Christ 
is  really  denied  when  those  who  were  redeemed  by  his 
Hood  again  enslave  themselves  to  the  devil,  and  as  far  as 
in  them  lies,  make  that  incomparable  price  vain  and  in- 
effectual." 

It  is  but  candid,  however,  to  allow  that  in  some  pas- 
sages where  the  word  all  is  brought  into  question,  this 
writer  supposes  that  it  signifies  all  of  every  kind,  or  all 
sorts,  rather  than  all,  every  one.  But  this  he  might  easily 
do  and  consistently  maintain  as  the  doctrine  of  the  New 
Testament,  that  the  death  of  Christ  was  a  full  and  per- 
fect sacrifice  for  the  sins  of  all  men  absolutely.  This 
doctrine  he  most  certainly  did  maintain,  as  several  of  the 
extracts  from  his  writings  now  presented  clearly  evince. 
We  need  not  be  afraid,  therefore,  that  our  Calvinism 
will  be  essentially  marred  by  holding  the  doctrine  of  a 
general  propitiation,  unless  we  wish  to  be  more  Calvinistic 
than  John  Calvin  himself.  But  as  we  should  call  no  man 
master,  upon  earth,  but  examine  for  ourselves,  and  take 
our  opinions  from  the  living  oracles,  let  us  hear  what 
the  Scriptures  say  upon  this  subject. 

To  facilitate  our  inquiries,  I  propose  to  consider  the 
truth  of  the  following  positions : 

First.  That  the  death  of  Christ  was  a  true  and  proper 
sacrifice  for  sin. 

Second.  That  though  his  death  was  of  vicarious  import, 
as  were  the  ancient  sin-offerings,  yet  it  was  not  strictly 
vicarious. 

Third.  That  this  sacrifice  bore  such  a  relation  to  the 
sins  of  men,  that  a  way  was  thereby  opened  for  the 
restoration  of  the  whole  human  family  to  the  favor  of 
God. 

Should  these  propositions  turn  out  to  be  true,  we 


312  EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 

shall  be  at  no  loss  how  to  answer  the  question  which 
stands  at  the  head  of  this  lecture. 

First.  As  to  the  first  position,  that  Christ's  death  was  a 
true  and  proper  sacrifice  for  sin,  there  will  be  no  dispute, 
as  this  is  common  ground  to  all  Calvinists,  and  to  all, 
indeed,  who  do  not  virtually  give  up  the  doctrine  of 
atonement.  Still  it  may  be  well  to  remark  that  the  lan- 
guage of  Scripture,  on  this  subject,  is  clear  and  precise. 
Christ  is  called  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the 
sins  of  the  world.  He  is  said  to  have  given  himself  for  us,  an 
offering  and  a  sacrifice  to  God.  It  is  affirmed  that  he 
needed  not,  like  the  high  priests  under  the  law,  to  offer  up 
sacrifice  daily,  first  for  his  own  sins,  and  then  for  the  sins  of 
the  people ;  for  this  he  did  once  when  he  offered  up  himself. 
He  is  expressly  called  the  propitiation  for  our  sins,  and  God 
is  said  to  have  sent  him  into  the  world  for  the  purpose 
of  making  propitiation,  and  of  making  it  by  his  death. 
The  whole  system  of  Jewish  sacrifices,  as  well  as  Patri- 
archal, were  but  types  of  his  one  great  sacrifice  when  he 
offered  up  himself,  and  demonstrate  his  death  to  be  a 
true  and  proper  expiatory  offering.  But  this  is  a  point  on 
all  hands  conceded. 

Second.  Was  his  death,  then,  of  vicarious  import  sim- 
ply ?  or  was  it  strictly  vicarious  ? 

That  it  was  of  vicarious  import  cannot  reasonably  be 
denied,  if  we  compare  it  with  the  legal  sacrifices,  or  at- 
tend to  the  express  language  of  Scripture  on  the  subject. 

The  victims  under  the  law  were  vicarious  offerings  ; 
they  suffered  in  the  room  and  stead  of  the  offerer,  and 
thus  far  there  was  a  transfer,  not  of  sin  or  guilt,  strictly 
speaking,  but  of  its  penal  effects ;  suffering  and  death, 
only,  were  transferred,  and  this  is  what  is  meant  by 
putting  the  iniquities  of  the  sinner  upon  the  head  of  the 
victim,  and  of  the  victim's  bearing  the  iniquities  of  the 
sinner. 


EXTENT    OF    THE    ATONEMENT. 

To  suppose  a  literal  transfer,  either  of  sin  or  of  punish- 
ment, would  be  to  suppose  something  which  is  entirely 
unauthorized  by  the  language  of  Scripture,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  involve  the  absurdity  of  making  a  man  and 
even  a  beast  guilty  by  proxy.  Sin,  guilt,  ill-desert,  are 
in  the  very  nature  of  things  personal;  and  punishment 
presupposes  guilt,  and  guilt  in  the  subject ;  neither  the 
one  nor  the  other  is  properly  transferable.  Or,  to  use 
the  language  of  Magee :  "  Guilt  and  punishment  cannot 
be  conceived  but  with  reference  to  consciousness  which 
cannot  be  transferred." 

While  we  would  maintain,  therefore,  that  the  suffer- 
ings of  Christ  were  of  vicarious  import,  because  he  suf- 
fered in  the  room  of  sinners,  and  bore  the  indications  of 
Divine  wrath  for  their  sakes,  we  cannot  subscribe  to  the 
opinion  that  they  were  strictly  vicarious,  if  by  this  is 
meant  that  the  sins  of  those  for  whom  he  suffered,  their 
personal  desert  and  their  punishment  were  literally  trans- 
ferred to  him.  We  maintain  the  doctrine  of  substitution, 
but  not  such  a  substitution  as  implies  a  transfer  of  char- 
acter, and  consequently  of  desert  and  punishment.  This 
we  think  to  be  impossible  ;  and  unnecessary,  if  not  impos- 
sible. It  was  enough  that  there  should  be  a  transfer 
of  sufferings,  and  these,  not  exactly  in  kind,  degree,  or 
duration,  but  in  all  their  circumstances  amounting  to  a 
full  equivalent  in  their  moral  effect  upon  the  govern- 
ment of  God.  We  hold  that  Jesus  died  in  the  room  of 
the  guilty,  that  though  innocent  himself,  he  was  made  sin 
for  us,  or  treated  as  a  sinner  on  our  account,  and  in  our 
stead ;  that  the  Lord  laid  on  him  the  iniquities  of  us  all, 
and  that  he  bore  our  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree, 
by  suffering  what  was  a  full  equivalent  to  the  punishment 
due  to  our  offences.  But  this,  we  think,  is  all  the  sub- 
stitution which  the  Scriptures  teach,  all  that  the  nature 
of  things  will  admit,  and  all  that  was  necessary  to  effect 
the  same  moral  ends  in  the  government  of  God  which 


3]  4  EXTENT    OF    THE    ATONEMENT. 

would  have  been  effected  by  inflicting  on  the  trans- 
gressor the  penal  sanctions  of  his  law.  This  brings  us  to 
our  third  position. 

Third.  That  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  bore  such  a  relation 
to  the  sins  of  men — that  a  way  was  thereby  opened  for 
the  restoration  of  the  whole  human  family  to  the  favor 
of  God. 

I  say  the  sins  of  men,  for  it  does  not  appear  that  his 
sacrifice  bore  any  specific  relation  to  the  sins  of  the  rebel 
angels.  For  them  no  sacrifice  was  appointed,  but  justice 
seized  at  once  upon  its  victims,  and  thrust  them  down  to 
hell,  where  they  are  reserved  in  chains  under  darkness 
unto  the  judgment  of  the  great  day.  And  but  for  a  sac- 
rifice, wrhich  did  honor  to  the  Divine  Law,  and  rendered 
it  consistent  for  a  holy  God  to  treat  with  rebellious  man, 
it  is  not  easy  to  see  why  the  arm  of  justice  was  not  up- 
lifted to  avenge  its  insulted  rights,  in  the  immediate  and 
interminable  punishment  of  our  apostate  race.  Be  this, 
however,  as  it  may,  it  is  an  undeniable  fact,  that  Jesus 
took  not  on  him  the  nature  of  angels,  but  the  seed  of 
Abraham,  and  was  in  all  things  made  like  unto  his 
brethren  of  the  human  family.  In  that  very  nature  in 
which  the  law  of  God  had  been  broken  and  dishonored, 
did  Jesus  appear  to  put  away  sin,  by  the  sacrifice  of 
himself.  But  this,  it  will  be  said,  it  behoved  him  to  do, 
if  he  were  to  expiate  the  sins  of  his  people  only,  and  if 
his  death  had  not  the  remotest  reference  to  the  sins  of 
the  finally  lost.  Granted :  but  must  it  not  also  be 
allowed,  that  if  he  had  intended  to  make  provision  for 
the  whole  human  family  by  pouring  out  his  blood,  it  be- 
hoved him  neither  to  be  nor  to  do  anything  more  than 
he  actually  did?  As  a  Person  of  infinite  dignity,  he 
accomplished  that  very  service  in  that  very  nature,  and  in 
all  those  circumstances  of  touching  interest,  which  alone 
would  have  been  requisite  had  he  intended  to  make 
atonement  for  the  whole  world  absolutely.  This  is  so 


EXTENT    OF    THE    ATONEMENT. 

obvious  as  generally  to  be  admitted.  It  is  allowed  on 
all  hands,  that  he  atoned  for  all  sorts  of  persons,  of  all 
nations  and  all  ages  of  the  world ;  and  that  the  sacrifice 
he  offered  was  of  sufficient  value  to  have  redeemed  the 
whole  human  race.  But  how  did  he  atone  for  any,  but 
by  obeying  the  law  in  that  very  nature  in  which  they  had 
disobeyed  it,  and  by  suffering  in  that  very  nature,  a  moral 
equivalent  to  the  evil  which  they  had  deserved  to  suffer, 
as  the  just  award  of  the  same  righteous  law  ?  But  this 
nature,  let  it  be  remembered,  is  the  common  nature  of 
man,  and  if  by  rendering  a  service  in  this  nature  would 
amount  to  an  atonement  for  one,  why  not  for  another,  and 
another,  until  the  whole  were  included  ?  That  such 
might  be  the  case,  it  is  easy  to  see ;  and  that  such,  in 
fact,  was  the  case,  it  would  be  very  natural  to  pre- 
sume. 

The  leading  circumstance  which  constitutes  the  con- 
nection between  Christ  and  those  for  whom  his  sacrifice 
is  available,  is  that  he  obeyed  the  law  in  their  nature  ; 
and  in  the  same  nature  suffered  its  penalty,  or  that  which 
was  equivalent.  All  had  reproached  or  dishonored 
God  alike,  by  trampling  upon  the  authority  of  his  law ; 
Christ  assumes  their  nature,  and  by  his  obedience  and 
sufferings  magnifies  the  law  and  makes  it  honorable, 
They  with  one  voice  had  proclaimed  that  the  law  was 
not  good,  nor  God  worthy  to  be  obeyed.  Christ  reverses 
this  statement,  and  proclaims  in  the  ears  of  the  universe 
the  purity  of  God's  character,  and  the  excellence  and 
importance  of  his  law.  Nay,  he  condemns  sin,  vindi- 
cates God's  holiness,  and  shows  his  unalterable  determi- 
nation to  uphold  the  authority  of  his  government ;  since, 
in  the  very  expedient  he  has  adopted  for  dispensing 
mercy,  he  will  not  forgive  sin,  without  an  adequate  sat- 
isfaction to  the  right  of  his  injured  majesty,  considered 
as  the  moral  head  of  the  universe.  All  this  Christ  did 
in  man's  nature,  and  with  reference  to  the  sins  of  men, 


316  EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 

and  more  than  this  he  need  not  do,  and  could  not  do,  by 
offering  himself  a  sacrifice  for  sin.  What  is  there,  let 
me  ask,  in  the  nature  and  circumstances  of  this  great 
sacrifice,  which  should  limit  its  availableness  to  a  part  of 
the  human  race  ?  Did  it  not  bear  sufficiently  upon  the 
conduct  of  the  whole?  Did  it  not  condemn  sin — all  sin 
— the  sin  of  one  man  as  much  as  the  sin  of  another  ? 
Did  it  not  vindicate  the  Divine  holiness,  and  the  purity 
and  excellence  of  that  law  which  man  had  broken  ?  Did 
it  not  evince  God's  determination  to  sustain  the  author- 
ity of  that  law,  while  it  exhibited  his  boundless  com- 
passion towards  a  world  of  rebels  ?  What  more  would 
we  have  in  it,  or  what  other  or  greater  moral  influence 
would  we  have  it  exert,  had  it  been  designed  as  a  sacri- 
fice of  expiation  for  the  whole  human  family  ?  As  for 
ourselves,  we  regard  the  whole  scheme  of  atonement  in 
the  light  of  a  remedial  law  ;  that  it  wras  adopted  to  coun- 
teract the  ruins  of  the  fall — and  that  in  its  very  nature 
it  contained  a  provision  coextensive  with  those  ruins — 
though  in  its  application,  for  wise  and  holy  purposes,  an 
important  difference  will  be  made.  But  here  we  shall 
be  told,  that  if  we  have  not  left  out  of  our  statement, 
we  have  not  sufficiently  exhibited  one  all-controlling  cir- 
cumstance, to  wit :  the  actual  substitution  of  Christ  for, 
and  in  behalf  of,  those  for  whom  he  suffered ;  that  to 
constitute  his  sufferings  an  available  sacrifice,  it  was  ne- 
cessary not  only  that  he  should  die  in  the  nature,  but  in 
the  room  of  sinners ;  and  that  he  might  die  in  their  na- 
ture without  dying  in  their  stead. 

Our  reply  is,  that  we  consider  the  death  of  Christ  as 
a  vicarious  sacrifice,  and  offered  in  behalf  of  all  men ; 
because,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  it  could 
scarcely  be  otherwise,  he  dying  in  their  nature,  and  in 
circumstances  equally  fitted  to  make  him  the  substitute 
of  all.  He  did  and  suffered  what  he  must  have  done, 
had  he  been  the  substitute  of  all,  and  so  far  as  we  can 


EXTENT    OF    THE    ATONEMENT. 

discern,  nothing  less  or  more ;  what  he  did  and  suffered, 
bore  the  same  relation  to  sin  and  holiness,  to  the  law  and 
government  of  God,  as  it  would  have  done,  had  he 
offered  himself  for  all ;  nay,  we  consider  it  impossible 
that  he  should,  by  his  obedience  and  death,  have  con- 
demned sin  and  magnified  the  law,  and  this  in  man's  nature, 
without  doing  it  with  reference  to  every  man's  sin,  and 
the  dishonor  which  every  man  had  cast  upon  the  law. 
His  sacrificial  service  was  open  and  public,  performed  in 
the  face  of  the  universe,  and  gave  out  a  testimony  which 
was  heard  through  all  worlds,  and  a  testimony  which 
bore  as  strongly  upon  one  man's  sin  as  another'.*,  and 
upon  the  righteousness  of  God,  in  his  condemnation. 
Nay,  whatever  was  the  language  of  this  solemn  transac- 
tion concerning  God  or  man,  equally  respected  all  men, 
and  God  in  relation  to  all.  We  could  not  doubt,  there- 
fore, that  so  far  as  Christ  was  the  substitute  of  any  man, 
he  wras  the  substitute  of  all  men,  were  we  to  look  only 
at  the  nature  of  his  sacrifice,  and  the  purposes  it  was 
immediately  designed  to  answer  in  the  moral  adminis- 
tration of  God.  But  the  Bible  has  not  left  us  to  general 
principles  here ;  it  has  furnished  us  with  facts  and  de- 
clarations upon  the  subject  which  we  think  ought  forever 
to  put  this  matter  to  rest. 

Look  a  moment  at  the  doctrine  of  sacrifice  taught  from 
the  beginning,  but  with  more  explicitness  under  the  dis- 
pensation of  Moses.  For  certain  transgressions,  and  some 
of  them  of  a  moral  character,  every  sinner  among  the 
Israelites  was  required  to  bring  a  victim,  over  whose 
head  he  was  to  confess  his  sin.  This  victim  was  after- 
wards to  be  slain,  and  offered  by  the  priest  as  a  sin- 
offering  unto  the  Lord,  for  the  purpose  of  making  an 
atonement  for  the  soul.  The  life  of  the  victim  was  ac- 
cepted for  the  life  of  the  sinner,  the  victim  being  always 
regarded  as  his  substitute.  Where  the  service  was  per- 
formed, agreeably  to  God's  appointment,  an  atonement 


EXTENT    OF    THE    ATONEMENT. 

was  made,  and  sin  forgiven,  so  far,  at  least,  as  to  release 
the  sinner  from  the  penalties  and  disabilities  incurred 
under  the  Jewish  law.  But  the  victims  slain  on  these 
occasions  were  types  of  Christ,  a  nobler  victim  hereafter 
to  come  into  the  world.  This,  so  far  as  I  know,  is  uni- 
versally admitted.  But  what  follows  ?  Why,  most 
certainly,  unless  the  Jewish  law  was  deceptive,  the  type 
being  the  substitute  of  the  sinner,  the  antitype  must  be 
his  substitute  also ;  for  it  looked  to  him,  and  derived  all 
its  significancy  and  efficacy  from  him.  A  typical  offering 
would  be  but  a  mere  mockery  of  the  Divine  justice  and 
holiness,  considered  in  any  other  light  than  as  a  prefigu- 
ration  of  the  glorious  Antitype.  Of  necessity,  therefore, 
they  must  be  regarded  as  closely  conjoined.  Admit,  then, 
that  every  man  in  the  Jewish  nation,  good  or  bad,  elect  or 
non-elect,  when  he  brought  his  sin  or  trespass-offering  to 
the  Lord,  was  taught,  by  the  very  nature  of  the  institu- 
tion, that  his  offering  or  victim  was  his  substitute,  could  he 
avoid  the  conclusion  that  a  greater  and  infinitely  more 
precious  victim  was  his  substitute  also  ?  Could  he 
understand  the  nature  of  this  sacrificial  service,  without 
perceiving  that  the  type  pointed  to  the  Antitype,  and  that, 
by  the  appointment  of  God,  both  stood  in  the  same  rela- 
tion to  him,  as  a  gracious  medium  through  which  pardon 
was  to  be  obtained,  and  the  Divine  favor  secured  ? 

Now  let  me  ask,  whether  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose 
that  such  a  doctrine  as  this  should  be  held  forth  in  the 
Jewish  sacrifices,  if,  in  truth  and  in  fact,  Christ  is  the 
appointed  substitute  for  the  elect  only  ?  I  know  it  is 
sometimes  said,  that  the  Jewish  people  were  a  typical 
nation,  and  that  they  properly  prefigured  the  true  Church 
of  God,  or  the  whole  body  of  the  elect,  and,  therefore, 
that  their  sacrifices  for  themselves  typified  Christ's  sacri- 
fice for  his  people.  But  this  by  no  means  avoids  the  dif- 
ficulty. The  Jewish  sacrifices  had  a  language  which 
was  distinct  and  appropriate,  and  that  language  was, 


EXTENT    OF    THE    ATONEMENT. 


319 


that  every  man's  victim  brought  by  God's  appointment, 
was  a  vicarious  offering,  accepted  in  behalf  of  the  guilty 
offerer ;  that  this  offering  was  a  type  of  Christ,  and  of 
his  great  sacrifice,  to  be  made  once  in  the  end  of  the 
world ;  and  consequently  that  Christ,  thus  prefigured, 
stood  in  the  same  relation  to  the  offerer  as  did  the  pre- 
figuring victim,  to  wit,  as  his  substitute,  and  the  only 
piacular  sacrifice  on  which  his  faith  ought  ultimately  to 
rest.  This,  we  have  no  doubt,  is  the  true  state  of  the 
case.  But  to  show  how  perfectly  futile  the  attempt 
to  escape  from  this  argument  is,  by  resorting  to  the  no- 
tion that  the  Jewish  nation  typified  the  Church,  let  us 
look  back  to  the  patriarchal  ages,  where  no  such  refuge 
will  be  found. 

It  is  the  common  belief  of  Christians,  supported  by  the 
clear  indications  of  Holy  Writ,  that  sacrifices  were  in- 
stituted by  God  immediately  after  the  fall ;  that  these 
sacrifices  were  expiatory,  resembling,  in  all  important 
particulars,  the  sin-offerings  under  the  law.     But  if  these 
early  sacrifices  were  of  God's  appointment,  it  will  not  be 
doubted  that  they  were  obligatory  upon  the  whole  hu- 
man family  during  the   patriarchal  ages,  nor  that  they 
were  typical,  bearing  the  same  relation  to  the  promised 
seed  of  the  woman,  and  to  his  sacrifice,  which  the  Mosaic 
sacrifices  afterwards  bore.     What  then  do  we  find  in  this 
ancient  sacrificial  service  ?      Why  that  God  required 
every  man,  as  he  did  Cain  and  Abel,  to  bring  their  vic- 
tims, at  the  appointed  time,  and  sacrifice  them  at  his 
altars.      Were    these  victims,  then,  the   substitutes   of 
the  offerers,  life  being  accepted  for  life  ?     There  is  no 
room  to  doubt.     Did  these  victims  typify  the  Saviour, 
and  his   sacrifice   of  expiation  ?      Most   certainly  they 
did,  or  they  were  an  unmeaning  and  unprofitable  ser- 
vice.    But   if  typical  of  Christ,  and  the  substitutes  of 
the  offerers,  then  Christ  himself  was  exhibited  as  the 
substitute  of  the  offerers,  unless  you  break  up  the  con- 


320  EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 

nection  between  type  and  antitype.  To  him  these  of- 
ferings pointed,  and  the  worshipers  were  directed, 
through  the  medium  of  these  emblems,  to  the  great 
sacrifice  which  he  was  to  accomplish  when  he  should 
come  to  break  the  head  of  the  serpent,  and  procure 
the  means  of  deliverance  to  a  ruined  world. 

Here  was  instruction  which  God  himself  imparted, 
and  it  exhibits,  with  the  light  of  a  sunbeam,  two  import- 
ant facts,  to  wit :  that  the  victims  employed  in  animal 
sacrifice  were  the  appointed  substitutes  of  their  respect- 
ive offerers,  and  that,  being  types  of  Christ,  they  show 
him  to  be  the  substitute  of  the  offerers  also.  Now,  as 
the  rite  of  sacrifice  was  universal — instituted  for  the 
whole  family  of  man — how  can  we  escape  the  conclu- 
sion, that  a  foundation  was  laid  for  this  universality  by 
appointing  the  Mediator  to  appear  in  human  nature,  and 
to  offer  a  sacrifice  in  behalf  of  the  whole  human  family. 
Allow  a  substitution  thus  universal,  and  all  appears 
plain ;  say,  with  the  Apostle,  that  Christ  is  a  Mediator 
between  God  and  men,  and  that  he,  by  the  grace  of  God, 
tasted  death  for  every  man  ;  give  these  expressions  their 
full  and  unrestricted  import,  and  there  is  no  difficulty  in 
allowing  that  the  ancient  victims  were  the  real  substi- 
tutes of  those  who  offered  them,  and  at  the  same  time 
types  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  who,  in  his  sacrificial  character, 
sustained  an  important  relation  to  the  entire  family  of 
man.  But  deny  a  substitution  thus  universal,  and  you 
are  plunged  into  impenetrable  darkness. 

We  have  dwelt  the  longer  on  this  point,  because  it  is 
vital  to  the  controversy.  If  Christ  were  a  substitute  for 
all  men,  or  died  in  the  room  of  all,  then  it  cannot  be  de- 
nied that  his  sacrifice  bore  such  a  relation  to  the  sins  of 
men,  that  a  way  was  thereby  opened  for  the  restoration 
of  the  whole  human  race  to  the  favor  of  God.  And  on 
the  other  hand,  if  no  substitution  of  this  universal  char- 
acter existed,  I  do  not  see  but  that  we  must  restrict  the 


EXTENT    OF    THE    ATONEMENT. 


321 


availableness  of  Christ's  death  to  the  elect  only.  But 
our  brethren  of  the  opposite  school  will  probably  rejoin: 
"  If  Christ  died  in  the  room  of  all,  why  are  not  all  saved  ? 
And  again,  if  he  died/or,  or  in  reference  to  all,  why  the 
specialty  sometimes  indicated  in  regard  to  the  object  of 
his  death:  he  is  said  to  lay  down  his  life  for  his  sheep, 
for  his  friends,  for  the  Church  ?" 

The  first  of  these  inquiries  we  answer  by  saying,  that 
if  Christ  did  die  for  all,  so  as  to  make  his  death  availa- 
able  to  their  salvation,  it  will  not  follow  as  a  conse- 
quence that  all  will  actually  be  saved,  and  as  to  the  in- 
dication of  specialty  in  regard  to  the  object  of  Christ's 
death,  such  as  that  he  died  for  his  sheep,  his  Church,  his 
friends,  these  are  all  explained  by  a  reference  to  the 
ultimate  object  of  his  death.  Doubtless,  he  died  with  an 
intention  of  saving  those  who  were  given  him  in  the 
covenant  of  redemption;  they  were  the  seed  to  serve 
him,  promised  as  a  reward  for  his  agony  and  bloody 
sweat,  and  he  looked  to  their  salvation  as  the  fruit  of 
his  sufferings,  and  as  the  joy  set  before  him.  But  such 
an  ultimate  design  of  his  death,  which  included  the  ap- 
plication which  should  be  made  of  it  by  the  sovereign 
and  discriminating  grace  of  God,  hinders  not  the  availa- 
bleness of  his  sacrifice  in  relation  to  all,  nor  throws  the 
slightest  suspicion  upon  the  doctrine  which  we  have  ad- 
vocated in  this  lecture.  Because  he  died  with  the  de- 
clared design  of  saving  his  people,  does  it  follow  that 
he  had  no  other  design  ?  Because  this  was  an  ultimate 
end  sought  in  his  death,  is  it  a  just  consequence  that  he 
could  have  had  no  other  end,  either  immediate  or  ulti- 
mate ?  Doubtless,  whatever  follows  as  the  proper  result 
of  his  atoning  sacrifice,  he  sought  more  immediately  or 
remotely  as  an  end  of  his  undertaking  in  this  infinitely 
solemn  and  amazing  tragedy. 

But  we  have  not  done  with  this  article  ;  that  the  sacri- 
21 


322          EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 

fice  of  Christ  stood  in  suck  a  relation  to  the  sins  of  men,  as 
to  open  a  way  for  the  salvation  of  alL 

We  argue  this  from  the  parable  of  the  marriage  supper, 
where  it  is  expressly  said,  all  things  are  ready,  and  ready, 
too,  for  those  who,  it  seems,  in  the  event  never  came. 
*  *  *  We  argue  it  from  the  indefinite  tender 
of  salvation  made  to  all  men  where  the  Gospel  comes. 
To  us,  no  maxim  appears  more  certain,  than  that  a  salva- 
tion offered,  implies  a  salvation  provided  ;  for  God  will  not 
tantalize  his  creatures  by  tendering  them  with  that  which 
is  not  in  his  hand  to  bestow.  We  argue  it  from  the  de- 
clared purpose  of  God  in  sending  his  Son  into  the  world, 
and  which  he  has  expressed  in  such  a  manner  as  to  leave 
no  reasonable  doubt  that  provision  is  made  for  all.  "  For 
God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten 
Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish, 
but  have  everlasting  life." 

By  the  world  here,  must  be  intended  either  the  chosen 
vessels  of  mercy,  sometimes  called  the  elect  world,  or 
the  world  of  mankind  at  large,  without  discrimination. 
Suppose  we  interpret  it  of  the  elect  world.  Then  the 
sentiment  will  run  thus :  God  so  loved  the  elect  world, 
that  whosoever  of  the  elect  world  shall  believe  in  him. 

But  such  language  is  absurd  upon  the  very  face  of  it, 
and  cannot  be  supposed  to  proceed  from  the  lips  of  un- 
erring wisdom.  Besides,  what  follows  fixes  the  sense 
and  demands  a  different  interpretation.  "  For  God  sent 
not  his  Son  into  the  world  to  condemn  the  world,  but 
that  the  world  through  him  might  be  saved."  And  again, 
"  This  is  the  condemnation,  that  light  has  come  into  the 
world,  and  men  loved  darkness  rather  than  light."  It  is 
utterly  contrary  to  the  usus  loquendi,  to  interpret  the 
phrase,  the  world  of  God's  chosen  people.  It  signifies 
often,  mankind  at  large ;  sometimes  the  wicked  part  of 
mankind,  as  distinguished  from  God's  people ;  and  not 


EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT.  323 

unfrequently  the  earth  itself,  with  all  that  pertains  to  it. 
Nor  is  it  doubted  that  it  is  sometimes  taken  for  a  part  of 
mankind,  instead  of  the  whole,  as  when  it  is  said,  "  the 
world  is  gone  after  him."  But  it  is  nowhere  used,  that  we 
have  discovered,  for  the  elect,  the  Church,  or  God's  re- 
deemed ones,  in  distinction  from  others.  Interpret  this 
passage,  then,  according  to  its  most  obvious  signification, 
and  what  do  we  find  but  a  declaration  of  God's  love  to 
the  human  race  collectively,  in  the  gift  of  his  Son,  which 
gift  involved  in  it  the  means  of  their  salvation.  He  sent 
his  Son  that  they  might  be  saved,  not  that  they  should 
infallibly  be  saved.  His  love  was  expressed  in  providing 
the  means,  and  their  destiny  he  has  made  to  turn  upon 
the  use  which  they  shall  make  of  this  inestimable  pro- 
vision of  his  mercy.  And  hence  Christ  himself  says  in 
the  words  immediately  following:  "He  that  believeth 
not  is  condemned  already ;  because  he  hath  not  believed  in 
the  name  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God."  Not  because 
a  way  of  salvation  was  not  provided  through  means  of 
this  Son,  (for  that  he  had  asserted  in  a  verse  or  two  pre- 
ceding) but  because  he  had  not  believed  in  the  name  of 
the  only  begotten  Son,  but  despised  and  rejected^  him. 

Here  he  assigns  the  true  and  only  cause  of  condemna- 
tion to  sinners  under  the  light  of  the  Gospel,  namely, 
their  unbelief.  But  how  could  unbelief  be  the  cause,  at 
least  the  principal  cause,  if  no  sacrifice  has  been  offered 
for  them,  and  no  means  of  salvation  provided  ?  There 
would  then  be  another  reason  for  their  condemnation,  a 
reason  far  deeper  and  more  controlling,  to  wit,  no  atone- 
ment, nor  the  means  of  one. 

We  call  not  your  attention  to  the  universal  terms  so 
often  employed  upon  this  subject,  as  that  Christ  is  the 
Saviour  of  all  men,  that  though  he  tasted  death  for  every 
man,  and  gave  himself  a  ransom  for  all,  §*c.,  not  because 
we  suppose  these  terms  ought  not  to  be  understood  in 
the  widest  sense  of  universality,  but  because  this  ground 


324          EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 

has  been  trodden  over  by  the  parties  in  this  controversy. 
We  ask  you  to  consider  some  passages  which  we  think 
far  more  decisive.  Look  at  Hebrews  x.  26,  27  :  "  For 
if  we  sin  willfully,  after  that  we  have  received  the  know- 
ledge of  the  truth,  there  remaineth  no  more  sacrifice  for 
sins ;  but  a  certain  fearful  looking  for  of  judgment,  and 
fiery  indignation  which  shall  devour  the  adversaries." 
It  is  agreed,  on  all  hands,  that  the  Apostle  here  describes 
such  as  openly  and  deliberately  apostatize  from  the  truth, 
and  set  themselves  vigorously  to  oppose  Christianity ; 
men  who  are  given  up  of  God,  and  irrevocably  sealed 
over  to  destruction,  as  a  just  judgment  for  their  wicked- 
ness. Now,  with  respect  to  these  men  he  saith,  there 
remaineth  no  more  sacrifice  for  sins.  The  original  is 
peculiarly  strong  and  determinate.  O0x  en  *epi  a^apr/wv  a*0- 
XsiVsrai  durffa — a  sacrifice  for  sin  no  more,  or  no  longer 
remains.  What  does  this  imply,  but  that  antecedent  to 
this  apostacy,  there  was  a  sacrifice  which  might  have 
availed  to  take  away  their  sins.  But  now  there  is  none. 
They  are  left  without  hope,  because  cut  off,  by  the  just 
judgment  of  God,  from  any  connection  with  the  only 
sacrifice  which  can  take  away  sin.  They  have  trampled 
under  foot  the  blood  of  the  covenant ;  and  now,  instead 
of  pleading  for  mercy,  it  pleads  for  vengeance.  But 
what  propriety  in  this  statement,  if  the  blood  of  Christ 
was  never  an  available  sacrifice  for  them,  and  they  never 
stood  in  any  other  relation  to  it  than  the  apostate  angels  ? 
it  having,  in  no  sense,  ever  been  shed  for  them.  Surely, 
it  must  be  strange  language,  to  say  there  remaineth  no 
more  a  sacrifice  to  those  for  whom  there  never  was  a 
sacrifice.  If  this  passage  stood  alone,  on  the  subject 
before  us,  I  should  consider  it  as  settling  the  question 
forever,  that  the  death  of  Christ  bore  such  a  relation  to 
the  sins  of  men,  as  to  open  a  way  for  the  restoration  of  the 
whole  human  family  to  the  favor  of  God.  For,  if  it  bore 
such  a  relation  to  any  one  soul  who  is  finally  lost,  with 
what  reason  could  it  be  denied  with  respect  to  others  ? 


EXTENT    OF    THE    ATONEMENT. 


325 


Look,  again,  at  1  Cor.  viii.  11 :  "  And  through  thy 
knowledge  shall  thy  weak  brother  perish,  for  whom 
Christ  died'9  But  how  shall  he  perish?  why,  by  being 
emboldened  to  eat  those  things  which  are  offered  unto 
idols,  as  the  Apostle  teaches  us  in  the  preceding  verse, 
he  shall  be  guilty  of  renouncing  the  living  and  true 
God,  or  which  is  equally  fatal,  confounding  him  with 
idols.  The  Apostle  does  not  say  he  shall  be  injured, 
greatly  injured,  but  he  shall  perish ;  using  the  very  same 
word  which  Christ  does,  when  he  says  that  God  gave  his 
only  begotten  Son,  that  men  need  not  perish,  but  have 
everlasting  life  ;  and  the  same  word  which  Jude  uses, 
when  he  speaks  of  those  who  perished  in  the  gainsaying  of 
Core.  It  is  perfectly  idle  to  attempt  to  explain  away  the 
solemn  and  awful  import  of  this  word ;  and  yet  if  it  be  al- 
lowed its  proper  signification — if  to  perish  is  to  lose  one's 
soul — then  men  may  be  lost  for  whom  Christ  died ;  which 
concludes  unanswerably  in  favor  of  our  doctrine,  that 
Christ  died  for  all,  or  that  his  sacrifice  bore  a  solemn  and 
important  relation  to  all. 

We  draw  the  same  conclusion  from  2  Peter  ii.  1, 
where  the  Apostle  speaks  of  some  who  privily  bring  in 
damnable  heresies,  denying  the  Lord  that  bought  them,  and 
bring  upon  themselves  swift  destruction.  You  have  al- 
ready heard  the  opinion  of  Calvin  upon  this  text.  And 
though  our  brethren  of  another  school  have  often  nib- 
bled at  it,  and  applied  to  it  the  various  arts  of  criticism, 
still  it  stands  as  firm  as  the  pillar  of  Hercules  against 
the  sentiment  that  Christ  died  for  his  people  only. 

If  wicked  men  deny  the  Lord  that  bought  them, 
doubtless  they  were  bought,  and  bought  by  the  price  of 
that  blood  which  alone  is  an  adequate  ransom  for  the 
soul. 

But  we  are  told  that  the  Lord  that  bought  them  was 
not  Jesus  Christ,  and  of  course,  that  they  were  not 
bought  with  his  blood.  Who,  then,  was  this  Lord,  and 


326  EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT. 

how  did  he  buy  these  wicked  men  ?  Why,  the  Lord  is 
God  the  Father,  the  Sovereign  Ruler  of  the  world,  and 
he  bought  these  men  as  Jehovah  bought  the  Israelites, 
when  he  delivered  them  from  the  bondage  of  Egypt. 
But  when  was  this  interpretation  first  introduced  ?  Can 
it  be  found  in  any  of  the  ancient  scholiasts  or  glossaries  ? 
Its  modern  date  shows  its  origin ;  that  it  has  been  re- 
sorted to,  not  from  its  obvious  agreement  with  the 
words,  but  from  the  necessity  of  the  case.  It  has  been 
seen  that  the  old  interpretation  would  be  fatal  to  a  cer- 
tain theory ;  the  words  of  the  Apostle,  therefore,  must 
speak  something  else  than  what  the  Church  from  the 
beginning  has  supposed  them  to  speak. 

But  let  us  hear  the  defence  of  this  novel  interpretation. 
The  word  in  the  original,  translated  Lord,  is  854*6*^,  and 
not  Ku£i<>£,  the  more  common  appellation  of  Jesus  Christ. 
This  word,  it  is  said,  signifies  Supreme  Ruler,  and  is 
thus  applied  to  God  in  several  places  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment. True ;  but  is  it  not  also  applied  to  Christ,  and 
even  to  men  who  sustain  the  relation  of  master  to  others 
as  their  servants  ?  Whom  does  the  Apostle  mean  by 
Ssfa&rns  in  2  Tim.  ii.  21,  where  he  says,  "  If  a  man  purge 
himself  from  these,  he  shall  be  a  vessel  unto  honor, 
sanctified  and  meet  for  the  master's  use  ?"  Whom  does 
Jude  mean  by  Ss<f^6rns  in  a  passage  strikingly  parallel  with 
that  under  consideration,  where  he  speaks  of  "  cer- 
tain men  crept  in  unawares,  who  were  of  old  ordained 
to  this  condemnation,  ungodly  men,  turning  the  grace 
of  God  into  lasciviousness,  and  denying  the  only  Lord  God, 
even  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ"  as  it  should  be  rendered. 
The  best  lexicographers  tell  us  that  this  word  has  the 
force  of  dominus  among  the  Latins,  and  may  be  applied 
to  God  as  the  Supreme  Ruler,  to  Jesus  Christ  as  the 
great  Head  of  his  Church,  or  to  any  head  or  master  of  a 
family.  Nothing  is  therefore  more  futile  than  the  at- 
tempt to  escape  the  obvious  construction  of  this  passage 


EXTENT  OF  THE  ATONEMENT.          327 

by  a  criticism  upon  the  word  Ssfafoys,  which  in  this  very 
place,  Schleusner  tells  us,  is  applied  to  Jesus  Christ. 
But  if  God,  the  Supreme  Ruler  of  the  world,  is  here 
designated  by  SsfaQrw,  I  should  like  to  know  a  little  more 
definitely  how  he  has  bought  these  wicked  men,  who 
privily  bring  in  damnable  heresies  ?  Will  you  say  he 
delivered  them  from  the  bondage  of  corruption  ?  This 
neither  the  text  nor  the  context  declares.  But  if  it 
were  so,  what  was  the  price  which  he  paid  for  their 
deliverance  ?  When  he  bought  the  Israelites,  he  paid 
a  price  for  them,  and  a  heavy  price  it  was;  he  gave 
Egypt  for  them — Ethiopia  and  Sheba  for  a  ransom. 
Was  there  anything  to  correspond  with  this,  when  he 
bought  the  false  prophets  and  false  teachers  spoken  of 
in  this  text?  According  to  our  judgment,  there  was 
never  a  harder  shift  to  blunt  the  edge  of  plain  and 
pointed  Scripture  testimony.  But  we  need  not  wonder, 
because  as  long  as  this  text  stands  in  the  Bible,  unper- 
verted,  it  is  entirely  fatal  to  that  scheme  which  contends 
that  Jesus  Christ  was  a  sacrifice  for  the  elect  only. 

Let  me  draw  your  attention  to  a  single  remark  more. 
This  important  passage  has  always  been  considered  as 
parallel  with  that  in  Jude,  already  mentioned.  There 
is  a  striking  resemblance  in  all  the  important  points  of 
character  attributed  to  these  wicked  men  by  the  two 
sacred  writers,  and  an  equally  striking  analogy  in  their 
doom.  But  what  did  they  do,  besides  turning  the  grace 
of  God  into  lasciviousness,  and  leading  a  life  of  brutal 
sensuality  ?  What  did  they  do  which  in  a  peculiar 
manner  irrevocably  sealed  them  to  perdition  ?  Why, 
they  denied  the  SsoVoV^,  and  by  Sefatrris  Jude  manifestly 
intends  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 


LECTTJEE    XIV. 


ELECTION 


"  And  as  many  as  were  ordained  to  eternal  life,  believed." — ACTS  xm.  48. 

BEFORE  entering  on  the  discussion  of  the  doctrine  supposed  to  be 
contained  in  these  words ;  let  me  advert  a  moment  to  the  original. 
Doubts  have  been  entertained  by  some  whether  our  translators 
have  properly  rendered  the  first  clause,  a  as  many  as  were  ordained 
to  eternal  life."  They  think  the  word  translated  ordained,  ought 
to  have  been  rendered  disposed,  set  in  order  or  prepared  ;  and  one 
writer  renders  the  clause  thus  :  "  As  many  as  were  earnestly  deter- 
mined  upon  eternal  life  ;"  leaving  it  uncertain  whether  this  deter- 
mination was  God's  or  the  creature's,  though  most  probably  the 
creature's.  He  has  the  good  sense,  however,  to  acknowledge  that 
this  determination,  if  it  appertain  to  the  creature  was  a  preparation 
of  heart  flowing  from  the  discriminating  goodness  of  God,  who  is 
the  author  of  all  good  desires  in  us.  The  phrase  in  the  original, 
is  "o'rfoi  ytfav  Tswypivoi  els  £wi}v,"  and  the  disputed  word  i 
a  participle  in  the  passive  voice  from  the  verb  Tarfrfw  or  <rar<rw. 
tfw,  according  to  Schleusner,  has  several  significations  closely  allied 
to  each  other.  Properly  it  signifies  : 

First.  Statuo,  ordino,  colloco,  and  certo,  ordino,  colloco  et  dis- 
pono,  i.  e.,  to  appoint,  ordain,  set  or  place,  and  to  set  or  place  in  a 
certain  order. 

Secondly,  and  metaphorically,  it  signifies  prascribo,  pracipio, 
mando,  jubeo,  i.  e.,  to  direct,  command,  order,  require,  fyc.  ;  and 

Thirdly,  it  has  the  signification  of  destino,  and  he  quotes  our 


ELECTION.  329 

text  as  an  instance,  rendering  the  passage  thus,  "  As  many  as 
were  destined  by  God  to  the  eternal  felicity  of  Christians,  believed." 
Morus,  who  was  no  great  friend  to  Calvinistic  doctrines,  is  con- 
strained to  acknowledge  that  this  is  the  apppropriate  meaning  of 
rsra/fxs'voj  in  this  place.  But  without  depending  on  the  opinion  of 
others,  Catvinists  or  Arminians,  let  us  look  at  the  use  of  this  word  in 
the  New  Testament,  and  especially  by  Paul  and  the  writer  of  the  Acts. 
In  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  the  Acts  at  the  second  verse,  it  is  said, 
((  And  they  determined  that  Paul  and  Barnabas  should  go  up  to 
Jerusalem,  eVagav,  signifying  their  determination,  purpose,  desig- 
nation or  will.  Again,  chapter  xxii,  10,  "  And  it  shall  be  told 
thee  of  all  things  which  are  appointed  for  thee  to  do" — rsVaxrai — 
not  prepared  or  set  in  order,  but  which  are  commanded,  prescribed, 
or  fixed  by  Divine  appointment.  Thus  also,  Acts  xxviii,  23,  "  and 
when  they  had  appointed  him  a  day,"  or  having  appointed  him  a 
day,  <ra£afjt,svo»  8s  aO<roj  Tjf^av.  In  the  same  sense  the  word  is  used  by  the 
Evangelist,  Matthew  xxviii.  16,  u  Into  a  mountain  where  Jesus  had 
appointed  them,"  sragaro.  In  Luke,  also,  vii.  8,  "  For  I  also  am  a 
man  set  under  authority ,"  i.e.,  commissioned  or  appointed, ratftfo'fxsvo^. 
Again,  Romans  xiii.  1,  "  The  powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  God," 
urroTou  0soursra/|xsvais<V»v.  And  finally,  1  Corinth iansxvi.  15,  "Addicted 
themselves  to  the  ministry  of  the  saints" — sis  <Wxov»av  roTg  kyius  sVa^av 
lauro^ — i.  e.,  devoted  or  consecrated  themselves  to  this  service. 
Whether  this  word  is  used  in  other  senses  in  the  New  Testament, 
or  whether  it  is  used  at  all  except  in  these  cases  I  have  not  had 
time  to  ascertain.  But  it  is  easy  to  see  from  these  examples  that 
our  translators  had  the  best  authority  for  the  version  which  they 
have  given,  and  that  vain  is  the  attempt  to  show  that  they  were 
influenced  by  predestinarian  prejudices.  A  greater  difficulty  arises 
from  the  otfoi,  or  quot,  quot,  as  many — as  though  no  others  in  that 
great  assembly  were  ordained  to  eternal  life,  and  all  that  were  so 
believed  on  that,  occasion,  which  some  may  think  in  itself  not  very 
probable.  Such,  however,  is  the  record,  and  who  has  a  right  to 
falsify  it  ?  or  perhaps  the  meaning  may  be,  that  such  and  such 
only  as  were  ordained  to  eternal  life  believed. 


AND  did  no  more  believe  ?  Not  when  Paul  preached, 
a  man  never  surpassed  in  the  force  of  his  reasoning  and 
in  the  power  of  his  eloquence  ?  Could  he  persuade  none 
to  believe  that  Jesus  was  the  Christ  except  those  who 


330  ELECTION. 

were  ordained  to  eternal  life  ?  None.  He  made  a  pow- 
erful appeal  to  the  Old  Testament;  he  showed  from 
ancient  predictions,  acknowledged  by  his  hearers  to  be 
the  Word  of  God,  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah  whom  God 
had  promised  to  raise  up  unto  Israel — that  everything 
which  related  to  him,  his  birth,  his  life,  his  doctrines, 
his  miracles,  his  death,  his  resurrection  accorded  with 
the  voice  of  the  holy  prophets.  He  reasoned,  he  ex- 
postulated, he  entreated,  but  they  only  who  were  or- 
dained to  eternal  life  believed.  Even  some  who  seemed 
on  the  point  of  giving  up  their  opposition  and  embracing 
the  Gospel,  finally  rejected  it.  Mournful  fact;  still  it 
was  a  fact ;  for  "  as  many  as  were  ordained  to  eternal 
life  believed,  and  the  rest  were  blinded."  What  would 
a  plain,  unsophisticated  mind  make  of  this  ?  Could  he 
avoid  perceiving  that  some  of  Paul's  hearers  were  or- 
dained to  eternal  life,  and  that  others  were  not — that  as 
many  as  were  thus  ordained  believed  unto  salvation— 
and  that  the  rest  did  not  believe  ;  but  to  them  the  Gos- 
pel was  preached  in  vain.  Surely,  here  is  no  darkness, 
no  metaphysical  subtlety,  no  labored  reasoning.  A  plain 
fact  is  set  before  us  level  to  every  capacity ;  but  a  fact 
which  draws  after  it  the  most  important  consequences. 
For  if  some  of  Paul's  hearers  at  Antioch  were  ordained 
to  eternal  life,  and  as  many  as  were  thus  ordained  be- 
lieved, shall  we  not  be  compelled  to  admit  a  similar  or- 
dination in  the  case  of  all  who  believe  unto  life  eternal  ? 
especially  when  the  Scriptures  constantly  refer  us  to 
such  an  ordination,  or  purpose  of  God  as  the  cause  of 
man's  salvation  ? 

The  doctrine  of  our  Church,  and  as  we  believe  the 
doctrine  of  the  Bible  is,  that  God  hath  preordained  some 
to  everlasting  life,  while  he  has  for  some  holy  and  wise 
design  left  the  rest  of  mankind  to  perish  in  their  sins. 
In  doing  this  he  acts  neither  an  unjust  nor  arbitrary 
part,  but  is  moved  by  a  regard  to  his  own  glory  and  the 


ELECTION.  331 

highest  good  of  his  moral  kingdom.  Certain  it  is,  if  he 
be  infinitely  wise  and  good,  he  cannot  trespass  upon  the 
rights  of  his  creatures  by  treating  them  in  a  way  which 
would  infringe  upon  their  claims ;  and  it  is  equally  cer- 
tain, however  unfathomable  his  counsels  may  be  to  us, 
that  the  course  which  he  pursues  in  the  administration 
of  his  government,  can  be  no  other  than  that  which  is 
ultimately  for  the  best,  taking  into  view  the  whole  sys- 
tem of  beings  and  events.  The  wheels  of  his  govern- 
ment may,  to  us,  appear  high  and  dreadful — and  from 
their  numberless  movements  it  may  strike  us  as  if  they 
were  both  complicated  and  embarrassed — but  it  becomes 
us  to  remember  that  these  wheels  are  full  of  eyes,  and 
go  straight  forward  in  the  execution  of  a  purpose  as 
wise  as  it  is  powerful  and  irresistible. 

I  am  aware  that  the  doctrine  we  have  laid  down  as  a 
subject  of  discussion  at  this  time,  viz. :  that  God  hath 
preordained  some  to  eternal  life,  and  not  others,  is  a  doc- 
trine exceedingly  unwelcome  to  the  natural  heart  of 
man ;  while  it  not  unfrequently  perplexes  individuals 
who,  we  charitably  hope,  are  themselves  the  heirs  of  sal- 
vation. It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  there  is  naturally 
a  strong  prejudice  in  the  human  mind  against  this  doc- 
trine. But  what  is  to  be  done  1  Must  the  minister  of 
Christ  yield  to  this  feeling,  and  conceal  from  his  people, 
or  very  partially  exhibit  to  them,  a  doctrine  which  he 
regards  as  standing  prominent  on  the  page  of  inspira- 
tion ?  This  would  plainly  be  to  impeach  the  Divine  wis- 
dom, for  inculcating  a  doctrine  which  had  better  been 
concealed,  or  which,  to  say  the  least,  should  not  often  be 
presented.  There  can  be,  I  think,  but  one  opinion 
among  sober-minded  men  on  this  subject.  If  the  doc- 
trine be  a  doctrine  of  the  Bible,  let  it  be  expounded  and 
enforced,  as  a  part  of  that  system  which  God  has  gra- 
ciously communicated  for  our  instruction  in  righteous- 
ness. Let  it  be  done  wisely,  indeed,  but  let  it  be  done 


332 


ELECTION. 


faithfully  ;  keeping  back  no  part  of  it,  nor  disguising  it 
under  a  specious  form  of  words,  lest  its  naked  simplicity 
should  awaken  the  hostility  of  gainsayers. 

Our  inquiry  now  is  as  to  the  truth  of  the  doctrine. 
Has  God  ordained  some  to  eternal  life,  while,  in  the 
exercise  of  his  sovereign  pleasure,  he  has  passed  by 
others  ?  What  is  the  voice  of  Scripture  ? 

In  the  eighth  chapter  of  Romans  we  have  these  re- 
markable words  :  "  And  we  know  that  all  things  work 
together  for  good,  to  them  that  love  God ;  to  them  who 
are  the  called  according  to  his  purpose.  For  whom  he 
did  foreknow  (or  before  acknowledge),  he  also  did  predes- 
tinate to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  his  son :  more- 
over whom  he  did  predestinate  them  he  also  called,  and 
whom  he  called  them  he  also  justified,  and  whom  he 
justified  them  he  also  glorified."  Here  is  an  unbroken 
chain,  and  if  dispassionately  viewed,  must,  we  think, 
furnish  an  unanswerable  proof  of  our  doctrine.  Who 
are  they  that  are  the  called,  according  to  God's  purpose  ? 
Certainly  not  all  who  receive  the  external  call  of  the 
Gospel ;  because  it  is  said  of  them  that  they  love  God, 
and  that  all  things  work  together  for  their  good ;  nei- 
ther of  which  is  true  of  the  great  mass  of  Gospel  hear- 
ers. They  are,  then,  those  that  are  called  and  saved 
with  a  holy  calling,  not  according  to  their  works,  but 
according  to  God's  own  purpose  and  grace,  which  was 
given  them  in  Christ  Jesus  before  the  world  began. 
Hence  it  is  declared,  in  the  second  place,  that  they  are 
those  whom  God  foreknew,  or,  as  the  original  word  signi- 
fies, fore-acknowledged.  To  know  a  person,  according  to 
the  style  of  Scripture,  is  often  the  same  as  to  own  or 
acknowledge  him — or  which  is  the  same  thing,  to  regard 
him  with  special  favor.  Thus,  God  said  of  the  nation  of 
Israel :  "  You  only  have  I  known  of  all  the  families  of 
the  earth."  Thus,  also,  it  is  said  of  all  God's  people  : 
"  The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his."  And  in  accord- 


ELECTION. 

ance  with  this,  Christ  will  say  to  some  in  the  great  and 
last  day :  "  I  'know  you  not,"  and  "  I  never  knew  you," 
that  is,  I  never  acknowledged  you.  So  to  foreknow  is  to 
regard  beforehand,  with  a  purpose  of  favor. 

It  is  the  same  thing  in  the  present  case,  as  for  God  to 
set  his  love  upon  those  whom  he  intends  eventually  to 
save.  How  can  it  be  otherwise  ?  For  he  could  not 
know  any  good  in  them,  unconnected  with  his  intention 
to  impart  that  good.  We  see  not  how  this  can  be  de- 
nied, unless  we  deny  that  he  works  all  our  good  in  us 
and  for  us.  Allow  then,  that  God  had  a  purpose  of 
mercy  concerning  those  whom  lie  foreknew,  and  that  this 
purpose  was  the  purpose  of  salvation ;  what  next  ?  Why, 
that  "  he  predestinates  them  to  be  conformed  to  the  image 
of  his  Son."  They  could  not  go  to  heaven  without  this, 
nor  perform  a  single  condition  on  which  heaven  is  pro- 
mised. Till  Christ's  image  is  begun  there  is  no  holiness, 
and  without  holiness  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord.  What 
follows  ?  Why,  those  whom  God  predestinates  to  be 
holy,  he  makes  holy.  For  whom  he  did  predestinate, 
them  he  also  called — called,  not  with  the  outward  call  of 
the  Gospel,  simply,  but  with  the  inw^ard  and  effectual 
call  of  his  Spirit ;  agreeably  to  that  passage  :  "  Ye  see 
your  calling  brethren,  how  that  not  many  wise  men  after 
the  flesh,  not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble  are  called; 
but  God  hath  chosen  the  poor  of  this  world,  rich  in 
faith  and  heirs  of  the  kingdom."  Now  those  whom  God 
thus  calls  he  justifies,  by  absolving  them  from  the  sen- 
tence of  condemnation,  and  declaring  them  entitled  to 
life.  And  this  once  done,  is  done  forever.  "  For  whom 
he  justified,  them  he  also  glorified."  The  past  time  is 
used  to  denote  the  certainty  of  the  event ;  for  so  irre- 
vocable and  effective  is  God's  purpose,  that  he  calls 
things  that  are  not  as  though  they  were.  What  shall 
we  say  then  ?  If  God  be  for  us,  who  shall  be  against 
us  ?  If  he  has  foreknown  us  as  persons  whom  he  designed 


334 


ELECTION. 


forever  to  bless,  if,  in  the  fulfillment  of  this  design,  he 
predestinated  us  to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  his 
Son :  if  he  has  called  and  justified  us  according  to  his 
predetermined  counsel,  will  he  not  glorify  us  ?  This  was 
evidently  the  Apostle's  creed ;    and  therefore  he  asks, 
"  Who  shall  lay  anything  to  the  charge  of  God's  elect  ? 
It  is  God  that  justifieth,  who  is  he  that  condemneth  ?  It 
is  Christ  that  died,  yea  rather,  that  is  risen  again,  who 
is  even  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  who  also  maketh  inter- 
cession for  us."     "  Who  shall  separate  us  from  the  love 
of  Christ  ?  Shall  tribulation,  or  distress,  or  persecution, 
or  famine,  or  nakedness,  or  peril,  or  sword  ?    Nay,  in  all 
these  things  we  are  more  than  conquerors  through  him 
that  loved  us,  and  gave  himself  for  us.     For  I  am  per- 
suaded that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  princi- 
palities, nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come, 
nor  heighth,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be 
able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God  which  is  in  Christ 
Jesus  our  Lord ;"   that  love  which  was  from  eternity, 
and  which  looked  to  eternity — that  love  which  has  been 
so  effective  in  our  own  calling,  our  justification,  and  in 
the  promise  of  glorification.     Now  strike  out  a  link  in 
this  golden  chain,  and  you  would  indeed  destroy  the 
doctrine  we  have  set  up,  that  God  has,  from  the  begin- 
ning, ordained  some  to  eternal  life ;  you  would  separate 
the  purpose  of  God  from  his  works,  and  make  the  calling, 
justification  and  glorification  of  believers,  to  depend  on 
something  besides  the  discriminating  love  and  efficient 
counsel  of  Jehovah.     But  who  shall  dare  to  do  this? 
who  shall  venture  to  contradict  the  Apostle  in  a  matter 
which  he  lays  down  with  so  much  precision  and  emphasis  ? 
Besides,  these  are  not  casual  expressions  of  this  sacred 
penman.     He  speaks  of  it  elsewhere  in  a  manner  the 
most  explicit  and  decided.     Thus,  in  his  Epistle  to  the 
Ephesians :  "  Blessed  be  the  God   and  Father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  hath  blessed  us  with  all  spiritual 


ELECTION. 


335 


blessings  in  heavenly  places  in  Christ,  according  as  he 
hath  chosen  us  in  him  from  the  foundation  of  the  world, 
that  we  should  be  holy  and  without  blame  before  him 
in  love,  having  predestinated  us  to  the  adoption  of  chil- 
dren, by  Jesus  Christ  to  himself,  according  to  the  good 
pleasure  of  his  will,  to  the  praise  of  the  glory  of  his 
grace,  wherein  he  hath  made  us  accepted  in  the  beloved ; 
in  whom  also  we  have  obtained  an  inheritance,  being 
predestinated  according  to  the  purpose  of  him  who 
worketh  all  things  after  the  counsel  of  his  own  will." 
What  could  be  either  more  definite  or  conclusive  ?  Was 
not  Paul  a  predestinarian  ?  Did  he  not  believe  in  the 
counsel  and  decrees  of  God  ?  and  that  these  decrees 
reached  to  the  moral  actions  and  eternal  destinies  of 
men  ?  Believers  are  here  said  to  be  chosen  in  Christ 
before  the  foundation  of  the  world — to  be  chosen  to 
holiness  as  well  as  to  salvation — to  be  predestinated  to  the 
adoption  of  children  by  Jesus  Christ,  in  whom  also  they 
had  obtained  an  inheritance  in  heaven;  and  all  this  ac- 
cording to  the  purpose  of  him  who  worketh  all  things 
after  the  counsel  of  his  own  will. 

One  would  think  there  was  no  need  of  being  in  the 
dark  on  this  subject,  if  we  were  only  willing  to  yield  to 
the  plain  and  unequivocal  testimony  of  God.  For  if  he 
work  all  things  after  the  counsel  of  his  own  will,  then 
the  salvation  of  believers,  who  are  declared  to  be  his 
workmanship,  must  be  the  result  of  his  eternal  purpose 
and  design.  Does  God,  then,  choose  or  elect  those  who 
are  to  be  the  subjects  of  his  eternal  favor  ?  Does  he 
call  them  out  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  bestow  on 
them  of  his  own  free  and  sovereign  mercy,  the  blessings 
of  salvation  ?  This  is  what  the  Bible  asserts,  and  this, 
indeed,  is  what  lays  the  foundation  of  the  very  word 
elect,  so  often  used  in  relation  to  them.  Peter  addresses 
Christians  in  his  time,  as  "  elect  according  to  the  fore- 
knowledge of  God  the  Father,  through  sanctification 


336 


ELECTION. 


unto  obedience."  And  Paul  says,  "  that  he  endured  all 
things  for  the  elect's  sake,  that  they  might  obtain  salva- 
tion with  eternal  glory."  He  demands  in  one  place, 
"  Who  shall  lay  anything  to  the  charge  of  God's  elect  ?" 
and  in  another,  he  beseeches  Christians  as  the  elect  of 
God,  holy  and  beloved,  to  put  on  bowels  of  mercies.  He 
tells  the  Thessalonians,  "  that  he  knew  their  election  of 
God,  because  the  Gospel  had  come  unto  them,  not  in 
word  only,  but  also  in  power  and  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  in 
much  assurance."  Nor  may  we  suppose  that  this  mode 
of  expression  was  peculiar  to  the  Apostles.  It  was 
familiar  to  our  Lord  himself,  from  whose  lips  no  doubt 
they  had  learned  it. 

He  speaks  of  the  elect  as  those  for  whose  sake  the  days 
of  tribulation  should  be  shortened — as  those  whose 
prayers  God  would  certainly  hear;  whom  false  Christs 
and  false  Apostles  would  not  be  able  to  deceive,  but  whom 
his  angels  would  surely  gather  from  the  four  winds  of 
heaven,  and  place  by  his  side  in  the  great  and  last  day. 

The  elect  are  a  well-defined  class  in  the  Scriptures. 
They  are  that  portion  of  Adam's  race  which  were  given 
to  Christ  in  the  covenant  of  redemption,  as  the  fruit  of 
his  toil  and  bloody  sweat.  They  are  the  seed  which 
was  to  serve  him,  the  travail  of  his  soul,  which  he  should 
see  and  be  satisfied.  They  are  his  Church  or  mystical 
body,  for  which  he  is  said  to  "  give  himself,  that  he 
might  sanctify  and  cleanse  it  with  the  washing  of  the 
water  by  the  Word,  and  finally  present  it  to  himself,  a 
glorious  Church,  not  having  spot  or  wrinkle,  or  any  such 
thing."  They  are  his  sheep,  for  whom,  above  all  others, 
and  with  a  special  design  for  their  salvation,  he  laid 
down  his  life.  He  speaketh  of  them,  when  he  says, 
"  All  that  the  Father  giveth  to  me  shall  come  to  me ; 
and  him  that  cometh  to  me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out ; 
and  this  is  the  Father's  will,  which  hath  sent  me,  that 
of  all  which  he  hath  given  me  I  should  lose  nothing,  but 


ELECTION. 


337 


raise  it  up  again  at  the  last  day."  And  again  :  "  Other 
sheep  I  have  which  are  not  of  this  fold ;  them  also  I 
must  bring  ;  and  they  shall  hear  my  voice,  and  there  shall 
be  one  fold  and  one  shepherd." 

But  why  are  these  persons  called  elect  ?  This  is  often 
made  a  question.  Our  doctrine  is,  that  they  are  called 
elect,  because  they  are  chosen  of  God,  in  Christ,  before 
the  foundation  of  the  world;  and  chosen,  not  because 
they  were  holy,  but  that  they  might  be  holy  and  without 
blame  before  him  in  love.  Our  doctrine  is,  that  they 
are  styled  elect,  not  because  they  have  first  chosen  Christ, 
but  because  Christ  has  first  chosen  them,  and  ordained 
them,  that  they  should  go  and  bring  forth  fruit,  and  that 
their  fruit  should  remain. 

That  this  is  the  proper  and  legitimate  force  of  the 
word,  when  applied  to  the  subject  before  us,  is  suffi- 
ciently manifest,  from  a  bare  inspection  of  the  passages 
where  it  occurs.  But  mark,  especially,  the  passage 
which  follows :  "  We  are  bound  to  give  thanks  to  God 
alway  for  you,  beloved  of  the  Lord  ;  because  God  hath, 
from  the  beginning,  chosen  you  to  salvation,  through 
sanctification  of  the  Spirit  and  belief  of  the  truth."  Ob- 
serve the  expression,  "  God  hath,  from  the  beginning,  chosen 
you  to  salvation."  This  choice  is  not  an  after  business 
with  God,  as  they  would  represent  it  who  make  him 
choose  men  to  salvation,  because  they  believe,  or  after 
they  believe.  He  chooses  from  the  beginning,  or  from 
the  foundation  of  the  world,  as  the  word  properly  im- 
ports, those  whom  he  finally  brings  to  life ;  he  chooses 
them  through  sanctification  of  the  Spirit  and  belief  of 
the  truth.  Salvation  is  the  end,  sanctification  the  means. 
But  it  may  be  said,  that  he  chooses  them,  because  he 
foresees  that  they  will  truly  believe  ;  their  foreseen  faith 
being  the  cause  of  their  choice  or  discrimination.  This 
cannot  be,  because  it  would  make  their  election  turn 
upon  their  own  works,  and  not  upon  the  mere  mercy  of 
22 


338  ELECTION. 

God,  contrary  to  the  express  declaration  of  Paul,  in 
Romans  xi.  There  he  tells  us  that  God  had  among  his 
brethren,  the  Jews  of  that  generation,  a  remnant  devoted 
to  his  service,  as  really  and  truly  as  in  the  time  of  the 
prophet  Elias,  though  in  both  cases  the  external  appear- 
ances of  religion  were  discouraging.  "  God  hath  not  cast 
away  his  people  whom  he  foreknew  or  foreacknowledged. 
Wot  ye  not  what  the  Scripture  saith  of  Elias,  how  he  mak- 
eth  intercession  to  God  against  Israel,  saying,  '  Lord,  they 
have  killed  thy  prophets,  and  digged  down  thine  altars ; 
and  I  am  left  alone,  and  they  seek  my  life.'  But  what 
saith  the  answer  of  God  unto  him  ?  '  I  have  reserved 
unto  myself  seven  thousand  men  who  have  not  bowed 
the  knee  to  Baal.'  Even  so,  then,  at  this  present  time 
also,  there  is  a  remnant  according  to  the  election  of  grace. 
And  if  by  grace,  then  is  it  no  more  of  works  ;  otherwise, 
grace  is  no  more  grace.  But  if  it  be  of  works,  then  is  it  no 
more  grace  ;  otherwise,  work  no  more  is  work.  What 
then  ?  Israel  hath  not  obtained  that  which  he  seeketh 
for" — that  is  acceptance  with  God  ;  "  but  the  election  hath 
obtained  it" — to  wit,  that  part  of  Israel  called  the  election 
or  body  of  the  elect — "  and  the  rest  were  blinded." 
This  reasoning  is  too  obvious  to  require  comment.  Here 
is  election  stated  in  the  clearest  manner ;  but  not  an  elec- 
tion founded  upon  works,  either  as  already  existing,  or 
as  foreseen  to  exist.  It  is  an  election  founded  upon  the 
mere  grace  of  God  alone,  an  election  which  finds  the  sub- 
ject of  it  in  his  sins,  guilty  and  helpless,  and  which  comes 
to  him,  not  because  he  has  repented  and  believed,  and 
found  acceptance  with  God,  but  to  give  him  repentance 
and  faith,  that  he  may  be  accepted.  This  view  of  the 
subject  places  God  on  the  throne,  and  makes  the  Scrip- 
tures consistent  with  themselves.  This  shows  us  that  it 
is  neither  of  him  that  willeth,  nor  of  him  that  runneth, 
but  of  God  that  showeth  mercy.  This  leaves  the  sinner 
justly  and  absolutely  in  the  hands  of  God,  to  do  with  him 


ELECTION.  339 

as  he  pleases,  and  corresponds  with  that  declaration  of 
God  himself,  "  I  will  have  mercy  upon  whom  I  will  have 
mercy,  and  I  will  have  compassion  upon  whom  I  will 
have  compassion."  This  accords  with  the  sentiment 
that  our  salvation  is  all  of  grace,  as  thus  expressed  hy 
the  Apostle  :  "  By  grace  are  ye  saved  through  faith,  and 
that  not  of  yourselves;  it  is  the  gift  of  God."  And 
again  :  "  Who  hath  saved  us,  and  called  us  with  an  holy 
calling,  not  according  to  our  works," — according  to  what 
then  ? — "  according  to  his  own  purpose  and  grace,  which 
was  given  us,  in  Christ,  before  the  world  began."  It 
would  carry  us  too  far,  to  call  up  all  the  passages  which 
bear  upon  this  point,  or  to  discuss  the  cavils  and  objec- 
tions which  have  been  raised  against  them. 

I  would  add,  however,  that  the  truth  of  the  propo- 
sition before  us,  that  God  hath  ordained  some  to  eternal 
life  while  he  has  left  others  to  perish,  is  perfectly  mani- 
fest from  the  difference  we  see  made  in  individuals  by 
the  dispensation  of  his  grace,  compared  with  the  doctrine 
of  depravity  and  the  efficacious  influence  of  the  Divine 
Spirit  in  the  conversion  and  salvation  of  men.  Some,  we 
perceive,  live  and  die  in  their  sins,  while  others  are 
brought  to  repentance,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  and  made 
partakers  of  the  salvation  of  the  Gospel.  Whence  this 
difference  ?  All  are,  by  nature,  totally  depraved,  and  if 
left  to  themselves,  we  are  assured,  would  neither  repent 
nor  believe.  Why  then  do  any  repent  ?  Is  it  not  owing 
to  His  gracious  act,  who  quickeneth  those  that  are  dead 
in  trespasses  and  sins  ?  If  he  did  not  take  away  the 
stony  heart  out  of  the  flesh  and  give  a  heart  of  flesh, 
would  it  ever  be  done?  If  he  did  not  create  men  in 
Christ  Jesus  unto  good  works,  would  they  ever  perform 
them  ?  If  he  did  not  shed  abroad  his  love  in  their  hearts 
would  that  love  ever  be  felt  ?  But  if  God  must  interpose 
for  these  purposes  must  he  not  do  it  of  design  ?  and  if 
from  design,  when  did  that  design  begin  ?  or  did  it  never 


340 


ELECTION. 


begin,  having  existed  in  his  own  bosom  from  eternity  1 
Surely,  with  God  there  can  be  no  new  designs.  Conse- 
quently those  whom  he  now  designs  to  save  he  eternally 
designed  to  save,  which  is  nothing  else  than  his  decree 
or  purpose  to  save  them. 

The  same  truth  follows  inevitably  from  the  fact 
that  God  has  a  fixed  plan  of  operation.  Did  he  make 
the  world  without  knowing  what  was  to  become  of  the 
world  which  he  made ;  or  without  intending  anything  in 
relation  to  it  ?  Did  he  not  foresee  what  would  be  the 
moral  conduct  of  every  individual,  and  what  his  final  and 
eternal  destiny  ?  especially  did  he  not  know  that  many 
of  the  lost  children  of  Adam  would  be  redeemed  from 
eternal  death  through  the  mediation  of  his  Son?  and 
also  who  these  persons  would  be  ?  Can  we  suppose  such 
a  foresight  without  involving  a  purpose,  seeing  their  sal- 
vation is  to  be  effected  by  his  own  agency  ?  How  stands 
this  matter  ?  He  gave  his  own  Son  to  die ;  not  simply 
to  make  their  salvation  possible  but  certain;  for  he  pro- 
mised him  a  seed  as  a  reward  of  his  sufferings.  Their 
salvation,  therefore,  was  infallibly  connected  with  his 
death ;  nay  more,  it  was  distinctly  aimed  at  as  an  ulti- 
mate end  of  his  death.  Christ  had  both  his  work  and 
his  reward  fully  before  him.  He  knew  that  his  death 
would  be  followed  by  the  salvation  of  an  innumerable 
company  of  mankind ;  nor  could  he  be  ignorant  of  the 
individuals,  their  names  and  circumstances,  if  we  sup- 
pose him  a  Divine  Person,  unless,  at  the  same  time,  we 
suppose  that  the  system  of  Divine  government  is  a  mere 
system  of  expedients,  and  that  the  all- wise  God  neither 
knows  what  ought  to  be  done,  nor  what  he  designs  to 
do,  until  the  time  comes  in  which  he  is  to  act.  But 
known  unto  God  are  all  his  works,  from  the  foundation 
of  the  world,  and  doubtless  his  works  cf  grace  among  the 
rest.  He  works  all  things  after  the  counsel  of  his  own 
will ;  but  that  counsel  is  not  taken  in  time,  but  exists 


ELECTION. 


341 


from  eternity.  It  is  according  to  his  eternal  purpose, 
which  he  purposed  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord,  that  the 
Church  is  redeemed,  and  that  to  principalities  and  powers 
in  heavenly  places,  the  manifold  wisdom  of  God  in  and 
by  the  Church  is  displayed.  The  Apostle  distinctly 
asserts  this,  and  consequently  the  salvation  of  the  Church 
was  both  a  matter  of  certainty  and  a  matter  of  design. 
I  ask  if  this  was  not  equally  true  of  every  individual  in 
the  Church  as  well  as  of  the  Church  collectively?  or  does 
God's  purpose  reach  the  whole  without  reaching  the 
parts  ?  Can  there  be  a  doubt,  then,  whether  God's  plan 
embraces  the  salvation  of  the  elect,  considered  as  one  of 
his  own  proper  works  ?  If  not,  he  must  have  had  a  pur- 
pose concerning  them  individually,  or  which  amounts  to 
the  same  thing,  he  must  have  ordained  some  to  eternal 
life,  while  he  did  not  thus  ordain  concerning  others. 

But  there  are  many  objections  to  this  doctrine,  some 
of  which  we  will  briefly  consider. 

(1.)  If  this  doctrine  be  true,  some  will  say  mankind 
must  be  in  a  most  deplorable  condition,  and  an  awful 
destiny  hangs  over  many.  They  are  not  ordained  to  life 
and  will  never  see  life.  Be  it  so.  Is  it  not  equally  cer- 
tain that  as  many  will  perish  and  perish  as  awfully,  if 
there  were  no  decree  or  purpose  of  God  found  in  the 
Bible  ?  None  but  the  impenitent  and  unleliving  will 
perish  upon  any  system — not  one  more,  not  one  less. 
But  all  these,  without  fail,  are  doomed  to  everlasting 
perdition  upon  the  objectors'  own  principles.  Now, 
whether  these  be  few  or  many,  can  be  determined  only 
by  an  appeal  to  facts ;  and  these  facts  will  be  the  same, 
and  hold  out  the  same  fearful  prospect  to  mankind, 
whether  the  doctrine  objected  to  be  true  or  false.  One 
thing  is  certain,  God  will  save  all  the  righteous  and 
punish  all  the  wicked,  whether  they  be  few  or  many ; 
nor  will  his  decreeing  to  do  this  make  the  thing  less  fit 
in  itself,  or  alter  the  number  of  the  righteous  and  the 


342  ELECTION. 

wicked  respectively.  Believing  in  the  doctrine  of  elec- 
tion, I  may  suppose  as  many  will  be  saved  as  he  who 
denies  that  doctrine,  unless  he  also  deny  the  final  differ- 
ence which  God  will  put  between  those  that  serve  him 
and  those  that  serve  him  not.  This  important  fact  is 
often  overlooked  by  those  who  object  to  this  doctrine. 
They  seem  to  suppose  that  if  it  were  not  for  election  al- 
most the  whole  human  family  would  be  saved — certainly 
a  much  larger  number  than  upon  the  admission  of  this 
doctrine.  But  no  supposition  was  ever  more  groundless. 
Still  we  may  be  told  that,  according  to  our  system,  God 
decrees  not  only  to  save  the  righteous  but  to  make  them 
righteous,  that  they  may  be  saved  !  True ;  but  this 
decree  does  not  make  the  rest  wicked,  nor  render  their 
state  more  perilous  than  it  would  otherwise  be.  God's 
eternal  purpose  to  save  some,  is  to  be  regarded  in  the 
light  of  a  provision  against  universal  ruin,  and  in  no  de- 
gree as  laying  a  bar  in  the  way  of  those  who  finally 
perish.  It  simply  leaves  them  where  they  are,  in  a  state 
guilty  and  without  hope.  God's  delivering  Lot  out  of 
Sodom,  did  not  bring  down  the  storm  of  fire  and  brim- 
stone out  of  heaven  upon  those  who  were  left  behind. 
They  would  have  perished  had  not  Lot  made  his  escape. 
It  is  objected 

(2.)  That  a  purpose  to  save  some  is  incompatible 
with  God's  impartiality,  and  virtually  makes  him  a  re- 
specter of  persons.  This  is  certainly  a  mistake.  For 
has  not  God  a  right  to  do  what  he  will  with  his  own  ? 
His  bestowing  favor  on  some,  and  not  on  others,  does  not 
render  him  a  respecter  of  persons,  unless  in  justice  he  were 
bound  to  confer  a  like  favor  on  all ;  and  then  it  would 
cease  to  be  a  favor,  being  what  justice  demands,  not 
what  grace  freely  bestows.  If  they  who  shall  finally 
perish  had  any  just  claim  on  God  for  his  forgiving  mercy, 
or,  in  other  words,  if  they  did  not  deserve  to  perish, 
there  would  be  some  ground  for  complaint  on  his  passing 


ELECTION.  243 

them  by.  But  not  as  the  case  now  is.  They  deserve  to 
suffer,  and  if  God  treat  them  as  they  deserve  he  does 
them  no  wrong.  And  if  he  pardon  some,  and  does  not 
pardon  others  equally  rebels  against  his  throne,  who 
shall  arraign  his  proceedings  ?  Not  the  rebels  them- 
selves who  fall  under  the  just  stroke  of  the  law.  It  is  a 
prerogative  of  which  God  is  jealous — and  which  he 
will  certainly  maintain — to  have  mercy  on  whom  he 
will  have  mercy,  and  to  punish  the  guilty  when  he  will. 
Listen  to  the  Apostle  on  this  subject :  "  What  if  God, 
willing  to  show  his  wrath,  and  to  make  his  power  known, 
endured  with  much  long-suffering  the  vessels  of  wrath 
fitted  to  destruction  ?  and  that  he  might  make  known 
the  riches  of  his  glory  on  the  vessels  of  mercy  which  he 
had  afore  prepared  unto  glory  ?"  Shall  God's  right  to 
exercise  his  sovereignty  in  this  case  be  denied  ?  Nay, 
shall  the  guilty  themselves  fly  in  the  face  of  their  judge  ? 
Beware,  O  man  !  of  replying  against  God.  His  throne 
will  be  guiltless,  whether  he  lift  thee  to  heaven  or  sink 
thee  to  hell.  Is  thine  eye  evil  because  he  is  good  ?  It 
will  be  time  enough  to  complain,  when  he  shall  lay  upon 
any  of  us  what  is  not  justly  our  due.  Till  then,  we 
might  as  well  complain  that  he  did  not  make  us  angels, 
instead  of  men,  or  did  not  keep  us  from  sinning  after  he 
made  us,  as  to  find  fault  that  we  are  punished  for  our 
sins,  though  others  should  obtain  mercy. 

(3.)  But  again  it  is  objected,  "Be  it  so  that  I  am 
justly  condemned  for  my  sins.  Still,  if  I  am  not  ordained 
to  eternal  life,  I  shall  never  be  saved ;  and  what  will  it 
signify  for  me  to  attend  to  the  affair  of  my  salvation  ? 
If  I  am  to  be  saved  I  shall  be  saved,  do  what  I  will ; 
and  if  I  am  to  be  lost  I  shall  be  lost,  do  what  I  can." 

This  is  false  reasoning ;  and  if  it  be  intended  as  an  ob- 
jection against  the  doctrine  advocated  in  this  discourse, 
it  is  enough  to  reply,  that  when  God  decrees  the  salva- 
tion of  any  man,  he  decrees  the  means  as  well  as  the 


344  ELECTION. 

end,  and  the  means  are  inseparable  from  the  end.  Those 
who  are  chosen  to  eternal  life,  are  chosen  through  sanc- 
tification  of  the  Spirit  and  the  belief  of  the  truth.  Men 
cannot  go  to  heaven  without  being  holy,  and  they  cannot 
be  holy  without  obeying  God's  commands.  He  who 
presumptuously  attempts  to  sever  the  means  from  the 
end,  not  only  reasons  falsely,  but  reasons  and  acts 
against  the  life  of  his  own  soul.  But  if  the  objection 
now  urged  be  a  practical  one,  one  intended  as  an  excuse 
for  doing  nothing,  I  must  beg  leave  to  say  to  the  objector 
that  he  is  not  sincere  nor  in  earnest  in  what  he  says. 
For  he  does  not  act  upon  this  principle  in  his  temporal 
concerns.  If  he  believes  the  doctrine  of  election  to  be 
true,  (and  it  is  only  upon  the  supposition  that  it  is  true 
that  he  can  consider  it  as  standing  in  his  way,)  he  must 
believe  that  all  other  events  are  predetermined  by  God ; 
he  must  believe  that  health  and  sickness,  prosperity  and 
adversity,  the  length  of  his  life  and  the  time  of  his 
death,  are  equally  predetermined.  Why,  then,  does  he 
not  reason  in  the  same  manner  in  regard  to  these  events  ? 
Why  does  he  not  say  in  the  hour  of  sickness,  If  God  has 
determined  my  recovery,  I  shall  recover,  whether  I 
apply  to  a  physician,  or  make  use  of  any  remedies,  or 
not ;  and  if  he  has  determined  my  disease  shall  prove 
fatal,  fatal  it  will  be  in  spite  of  all  means,  and  therefore 
I  will  use  none.  If  God  has  determined  I  shall  live  ten 
years,  I  shall  live  ten  years,  whether  I  eat,  or  drink,  or 
take  any  care  of  my  life  or  not.  You  can  find  no  man 
except  a  maniac  who  will  reason  in  this  manner.  And 
why  ?  Because  every  one  perceives  the  means  and  the 
end  are  inseparably  connected  in  the  affairs  of  this  world. 
Are  they  not  equally  so  in  the  things  of  religion  ?  Until 
men  therefore  will  carry  the  objection  through,  applying 
it  to  things  temporal  as  well  as  to  things  spiritual,  we 
have  a  right  to  say  that  they  are  not  sincere  in  urging 
this  objection;  that  it  is  only  a  pretext  for  doing  nothing; 


ELECTION. 


345 


an  idle  excuse,  which  the  conscience  will  condemn  in 
the  hour  of  death  and  in  the  final  judgment. 

(4.)  Again,  it  is  objected  that  a  positive  decree  to  save 
some  is  inconsistent  with  the  free  agency  of  man,  and 
makes  him  but  a  mere  machine.  How  so  ?  It  surely 
does  not  stand  opposed  to  the  freedom  of  those  who  shall 
be  saved,  since  the  most  that  it  can  do  in  relation  to 
them  is  to  make  it  certain  that  they  shall  be  willing  in 
the  day  of  God's  power;  and  as  to  others,  it  does  not 
immediately  concern  them — it  simply  leaves  them  where 
they  are.  It  throws  no  barrier  in  the  way  of  their  sal- 
vation, and  it  removes  none.  If  they  perish,  (and  what 
else  can  we  look  for?)  they  will  perish  because  they 
willingly  persevere  in  rejecting  the  overtures  of  the 
Gospel.  I  speak,  of  course,  of  those  to  whom  the  Gos- 
pel is  made  known. 

None  of  all  the  human  race  will  be  saved  most  cer- 
tainly, but  those  in  whose  behalf  God  shall  mercifully 
interpose  by  his  enlightening  and  sanctifying  power. 
But  if  he  interpose,  doubtless  he  will  do  it  of  design,  but 
neither  the  design  itself,  nor  the  execution  of  it,  is  in  the 
least  degree  incompatible  with  the  freedom  of  man.  I 
admit  that  God's  purpose  makes  it  certain,  that  those 
whom  he  hath  chosen  to  salvation,  shall  sooner  or  later 
comply  with  the  conditions  of  salvation,  but  their  com- 
pliance is  a  voluntary  thing,  of  course ;  when  they  com- 
ply they  do  that,  and  that  only,  which  is  pleasing  to  them 
to  do.  Here  is  no  constraint,  no  infringement  of  their 
moral  liberty,  if  to  do  as  a  man  pleases  is  to  be  free,  or 
if  in  the  mere  fact  of  being  pleased  his  liberty  is  not  con- 
strained. 

(5.)  But  if  God  has  determined  to  save  some  and 
not  others,  then  some  will  be  certainly  saved,  and  the 
rest  as  certainly  perish.  Can  we  avoid,  upon  this  prin- 
ciple, the  appalling  conclusion,  that  those  who  shall 


346  ELECTION. 

finally  perish  were  made  for  the  very  purpose  of  being 
miserable  ?  They  were  made,  it  must  be  admitted, 
knowing  that  their  end  would  be  destruction.  This 
will  not  be  denied  by  any  who  allow  the  absolute  fore- 
knowledge of  God.  Can  it,  then,  be  said  that  he  made 
those  who  he  foresaw  would  finally  perish,  with  an  ex- 
pectation that  they  would  finally  be  saved  ?  No  person 
will  pretend  this  ;  and  as  little  can  it  be  pretended  that 
he  purposed  them  for  an  end  which  he  knew  they  would 
never  reach.  This  would  be  in  the  highest  degree  ab- 
surd, as  it  would  be  supposing  the  all-wise  Creator 
to  aim  at  an  object  which  he  did  not  expect  to  ac- 
complish— a  thing  not  to  be  charged  to  the  account  of 
any  rational  being.  The  truth  is,  God  made  all  men 
naturally  capable  of  endless  felicity,  and  put  into  their 
hands  the  natural  means  of  securing  it.  That  is  to  say, 
he  made  them  moral  agents,  and  placed  them  under  a 
law  which  they  were  sacredly  bound  to  obey,  and 
which,  if  they  had  obeyed  without  defection,  their  hap- 
piness would  inevitably  have  ensued.  But  at  the  same 
time,  he  anticipated  their  revolt,  and  the  final  misery 
which,  to  many  of  them  at  least,  would  certainly  follow. 
If  you  ask  why  he  did  this — why  he  created  men — when 
he  knew  the  consequences  as  to  many'would  be  so  disas- 
trous ?  The  answer  is,  because  so  it  seemed  good  in  his 
sight,  he  saw  that  his  own  glory  required  it,  and  doubt- 
less the  highest  happiness  of  his  immeasurable  and  eter- 
nal kingdom.  The  Lord  hath  made  all  things  for  him- 
self, even  the  wicked  for  the  day  of  evil,  but  not  for  the 
day  of  evil  as  the  ultimate  end  of  their  being ;  this  end 
is  his  own  glory,  and  the  good  of  his  kingdom  as  con- 
nected with  his  glory.  But  whether  this  will  satisfy 
the  inquiring  and  complaining  mind  or  not,  one  thing  is 
certain;  the  difficulties  attending  the  subject  are  no 
greater  to  those  who  maintained  the  doctrine  of  the  Di- 


ELECTION. 


347 


vine  decrees,  and  the  decree  of  election  among  the  rest, 
than  to  those  who  admit  the  absolute  prescience  of  God. 
(6.)  After  all  it  may  be  said,  if  the  doctrine  be  true, 
is  it  not  a  discouraging  doctrine  ?  And  should  it  not 
rather  be  suppressed,  or,  at  all  events,  sparingly  incul- 
cated ;  lest  it  prevent  men  from  attending  in  earnest  to 
the  great  subject  of  their  salvation  ?  This  is  the  opinion 
of  some  who  believe  the  doctrine.  But  we  ask,  is  this 
respectful  to  the  Divine  wisdom.  If  the  doctrine  be  re- 
vealed, why  should  it  not  be  declared  ?  For  what  pur- 
pose has  God  revealed  it,  if  it  is  not  to  arrest  our  atten- 
tion, and  become  the  subject  of  serious  and  deliberate 
regard  ?  It  is  written  with  more  or  less  distinctness  on 
almost  every  page  of  the  Bible ;  and  the  diligent  reader  of 
this  Sacred  Volume  can  scarcely  turn  away  his  eyes  from 
it  if  he  would.  And  as  to  its  discouraging  effect,  we  are 
greatly  mistaken  if  it  has  this  influence  upon  any  but 
those  who  are  profoundly  ignorant  of  their  own  charac- 
ter. If  men  are  once  convinced  of  their  desperate  wick- 
edness, they  will  presently  discover  that  there  is  no 
other  hope  for  them,  but  in  the  sovereign  interposition 
of  God.  They  will  see  that  if  left  to  themselves,  and  to 
their  own  unassisted  endeavors,  they  will  inevitably 
continue  in  their  rebellious  and  guilty  course  till  they 
fall  into  the  pit  of  destruction.  Such  persons  are  not 
discouraged  when  they  hear  God  say,  "I  will  have 
mercy  on  whom  I  will  have  mercy,  and  I  will  be  gra- 
cious to  whom  I  will  be  gracious."  So  far  from  it,  it  is 
from  this  and  similar  declarations  that  they  take  courage 
rather,  believing  that,  guilty  and  deplorable  as  their  case 
is,  it  is  not  beyond  the  reach  of  the  Divine  power  and 
mercy ;  that  He  who  has  so  often  signalized  his  grace  in 
subduing  the  stout-hearted  and  rebellious,  and  in  pluck- 
ing the  guilty  from  the  very  borders  of  the  pit,  can,  if  it 
please  him,  make  them  the  monuments  of  his  supera- 


348  ELECTION. 

bounding  mercy.  This  is  their  last  and  only  hope. 
With  respect  to  the  self-righteous  and  careless,  no  doubt 
the  doctrine  advocated  in  the  preceding  discourse  will 
often  be  found  unwelcome ;  nor  would  it  be  strange  if 
they  should  abuse  it  as  they  do  other  doctrines  of  the 
Scriptures,  to  their  greater  guilt  and  condemnation. 


LECTURE    XV. 


ON  EFECTUAL  CALLING. 


IN  my  last  Lecture,  the  doctrine  of  particular  and  per- 
sonal election,  as  understood  by  Calvinists,  was  considered, 
with  some  of  the  objections  usually  urged  against  this 
doctrine.  I  call  your  attention  now  to  the  doctrine  of 
effectual  calling.  This  was  briefly  alluded  to,  in  the  last 
Lecture,  as  a  subject  intimately  associated  with  that  of 
election.  In  short,  they  mutually  imply  each  other.  If 
God  actually  sets  his  love  on  a  portion  of  the  human 
family,  intending  to  interpose  for  their  salvation,  doubt- 
less what  he  intends  to  do  will  be  done  ;  and  if  he  ever 
interposes  effectually  in  behalf  of  any,  to  induce  them  to 
comply  with  the  terms  of  salvation,  there  is  no  reason  to 
question  that  he  purposed  to  do  so  from  everlasting.  He 
would  not  purpose  in  the  case,  if  he  had  not  the  power 
to  accomplish  what  he  purposed.  Nor  can  we  suppose 
his  power  put  forth  at  any  time,  for  any  end,  without  a 
correspondent  design  which  was  neither  new  nor  tran- 
sient, but  coeternal  with  his  being. 

In  religion,  as  in  science,  there  are  a  few  leading  prin- 
ciples which  are  fundamental  to  all  the  rest.  Mistake 
any  one  of  these,  and  you  will  always  be  in  the  dark. 
No  matter  how  much  you  may  read  or  reflect,  how  mi- 
nute or  how  wide  your  researches  may  be,  if  your  founda- 
tion be  unsound,  your  superstructure  will  never  be  secure. 


350  ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

Do  we  desire,  then,  to  become  acquainted  with  Christian 
doctrine  ?  We  must  spare  no  pains  thoroughly  to  under- 
stand its  primary  truths.  We  must  examine  and  re-ex- 
amine, till  we  are  reasonably  assured  that  our  first 
principles  are  grounded  upon  the  plain  and  unequivocal 
testimony  of  God.  And  in  doing  this,  it  is  not  unimpor- 
tant that  we  should  bring  an  humble  and  impartial,  as 
well  as  an  inquisitive  spirit  to  the  work,  a  spirit  which 
is  willing  to  abide  by  the  declaration  of  God's  Word, 
whether  it  be  for  us  or  against  us,  whether  it  fall  in  with 
our  preconceived  opinions  or  oppose  them. 

For  want  of  this,  thousands  of  laborious  inquirers  have 
been  led  astray.  Their  object  has  been  to  learn,  not  so 
much  what  hath  the  Lord  spoken,  as  whether  his  Word 
can  be  made  to  yield  a  sense  which  accords  with  a  creed 
already  adopted,  or  which  they  may  wish  to  adopt. 
There  is  the  more  reason  for  making  these  suggestions, 
since  whatever  may  be  the  true  system  of  the  Bible, 
nothing  is  more  certain,  than  that  it  is  a  system  directly 
repugnant  to  the  native  feelings  of  our  hearts. 

The  question  I  propose  to  consider  is,  whether  there 
be  any  such  thing,  properly  speaking,  as  an  effectual  caU ; 
that  is,  whether  the  Bible  authorizes  the  use  of  any 
such  language,  when  speaking  of  the  Divine  agency  in 
the  matter  of  our  conversion  and  salvation.  That  this 
has  long  been  the  opinion  of  the  Church,  we  cannot 
doubt ;  that  this  was  the  opinion  of  the  Reformers,  and 
many  leading  men  since  their  day,  is  obvious,  from  their 
creeds  and  confessions  which  are  still  extant.  Let  me 
advert  a  moment  to  some  of  these  symbols.  They  are 
entitled,  for  the  most  part,  to  be  regarded  as  the  form  of 
sound  words,  if  nothing  more.  They  show,  at  least, 
what  great  and  good  men  have  thought  upon  this  subject 
in  days  that  are  gone  by,  days  which  were  trying  to 
them,  and  deeply  interesting  to  the  Church  of  God. 

In  our  shorter  catechism,  "  effectual  calling  "  is  said 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 


351 


to  be  "  the  work  of  God's  Spirit,  whereby  convincing  us 
of  our  sin  and  misery,  and  enlightening  our  minds  in  the 
knowledge  of  Christ,  and  renewing  our  wills,  he  doth 
persuade  and  enable  us  to  embrace  Jesus  Christ,  as  he 
is  freely  offered  to  us  in  the  Gospel."  In  this  definition, 
the  whole  work  of  conviction  and  conversion  is  com- 
prised, and  its  accomplishment  ascribed  to  the  Holy 
Spirit,  as  its  true  and  proper  cause  ;  not,  however,  over- 
looking the  instrumentality  of  the  Word,  nor  denying 
that  an  outward  call  is  freely  given  to  all,  where  the 
Gospel  comes.  There  is  no  truth  more  certain,  than 
that  the  Gospel  is  to  be  preached  to  all  men,  without 
distinction,  and  that  all  are  invited  and  commanded  by 
it,  to  come  and  partake  of  the  blessing  which  it  reveals. 
This  is  clearly  taught  in  the  parable  of  the  marriage 
supper.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  manifest  that  all  do  not 
come.  Some  indulge  in  frivolous  excuses,  and  disobey 
the  heavenly  message,  and  perish  under  aggravated  guilt. 
The  same,  it  is  believed,  would  be  the  case  of  all,  if  left 
to  pursue  their  own  chosen  way.  The  human  heart 
being  totally  depraved  would  uniformly  and  universally 
reject  the  offers  of  the  Gospel,  if  the  Divine  Spirit  did 
not  accompany  the  Word  by  his  own  secret  and  powerful 
influence,  and  dispose  the  sinner  humbly  and  thankfully 
to  embrace  the  proffered  mercy.  This  influence  or  work 
of  the  Spirit,  our  standards  denominate  a  call,  and  an 
effectual  call,  because  it  never  fails  to  reach  its  end.  All 
who  are  the  subjects  of  it  are  certain  to  obey,  and 
obeying,  to  become  partakers  of  the  blessings  which  the 
Gospel  freely  tenders.  The  view  which  our  fathers  had 
of  this  subject,  you  will  find  more  fully  expressed  in  the 
larger  catechism,  and  in  the  confession  of  faith.  "  All 
those  whom  God  hath  predestinated  unto  life,  and  those 
only,  he  is  pleased  in  his  appointed  and  accepted  time, 
effectually  to  call  out  of  that  state  of  sin  and  death,  in 
which  they  are  by  nature,  to  grace  and  salvation  by  Jesus 


352  ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

Christ;  enlightening  their  minds,  spiritually  and  savingly 
to  understand  the  things  of  God;  taking  away  their  heart 
of  stone,  and  giving  unto  them  a  heart  of  flesh ;  renew- 
ing their  wills,  and  by  his  almighty  power,  determining 
them  to  that  which  is  good,  and  effectually  drawing  them 
to  Jesus  Christ ;  yet  so  as  they  come  most  freely,  being 
made  willing  by  his  grace/3     This  effectual  calling,  they 
add,  "  is  of  God's  free  and  special  grace  alone  ;  not  from 
anything  at  all  foreseen  in  man,  who  is  altogether  passive 
therein,    until  being  quickened  and  renewed  by  the 
Holy  Spirit,  he  is  thereby  enabled  to  answer  this  call, 
and  to  embrace  the  grace  offered  and  conveyed  therein." 
Two  things,  you  perceive,  are  here  conjoined — God's 
eternal  purpose,  and  an  effectual  call,  as  the  result  of 
that  purpose.    Nor  is  it  possible  it  should  be  otherwise, 
since  whatever  God  does  he  eternally  designed  to  do. 
The  same  idea  with  respect  to  an  effectual  call,  is  found 
in  all  the  creeds  and  formularies  of  the  early  Protestant 
Churches,  and  in  none,  perhaps,  wTith  more  distinctness 
and  precision,  than  in  the  articles  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land.    In  their  17th  article,  predestination  and  effectual 
calling  are  united.     "  Predestination  to  life  (not  predesti- 
nation to  external  privileges)  predestination  to  life  is  the 
everlasting  purpose  of  God,  whereby,  before  the  founda- 
tions of  the  world  were  laid,  he  hath  constantly  (i.  e. 
firmly)  decreed  by  his  counsel,  secret  to  us,  to  deliver 
from  curse  and  damnation  those  whom  he  hath  chosen 
in  Christ  out  of  mankind,  and  to  bring  them  by  Christ  to 
everlasting  salvation  as  vessels  made  to  honor.     Where- 
fore they  who  be  endued  with  so  excellent  a  benefit  of 
God,"  (that  is,  they  who  are  thus  predestinated  to  life,) 
"be   called  according  to  God's   purpose   by  the  Spirit 
working  in  due  season;  they,  through  grace,  obey  the 
calling ;  they  be  justified  freely ;  they  be  made  sons  of 
God  by  adoption ;  they  be  made  like  the  image  of  his 
only  begotten  Son  Jesus  Christ ;  they  walk  religiously 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 


353 


in  good  works;  and  at  length,  by  God's  mercy,  they 
attain  to  everlasting  felicity."  We  know,  indeed,  that 
the  great  body  of  the  English  Church  do  not  receive 
this  article  in  its  most  obvious  construction ;  that  "  much 
learning "  and  ingenuity  have  been  employed  within 
the  last  century  to  give  it  a  sense  compatible  with  Ar- 
minian  views  ;  but  we  are  well  satisfied  that  no  learning 
or  talent  will  ever  be  able  to  overturn  this  noble  monu- 
ment of  ancient  orthodoxy.  It  stands  firm,  and  is  des- 
tined, we  trust,  to  be  instrumental  in  bringing  back  the 
sons  of  that  church  to  the  creed  of  their  forefathers,  and 
to  "  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints."  Many  have 
returned  within  the  last  forty  years ;  and  this  species  of 
reform  is  still  advancing.  A  thousand  ministers  of  that 
communion,  in  Great  Britain  alone,  besides  many  distin- 
guished laymen,  are  known  to  have  embraced  Calvinistic 
sentiments. 

But  our  faith,  my  brethren,  must  not  "  stand  in  the 
wisdom  of  men,  but  in  the  power  of  God."  To  his  tri- 
bunal are  we  responsible,  not  to  the  tribunal  of  mortals. 
"To  the  law,  then,  and  to  the  testimony:"  "  What  saith 
the  Scripture  "  concerning  an  effectual  call  1 

I  consider  that  call  as  effectual  which  actually  brings 
the  soul  into  a  state  of  salvation,  by  causing  it  to  com- 
ply with  the  terms  of  the  Gospel.  Any  call  which 
leaves  the  subject  of  it  short  of  this,  cannot  be  effectual, 
proceed  from  what  source  it  may,  and  accomplish  what 
else  it  may.  Let  it  come  from  the  Word,  or  providence, 
or  Spirit  of  God,  or  from  all  three  combined,  if  it  does 
not  issue  in  "  repentance  unto  life,"  and  in  "  faith  un- 
feigned," it  is  not  effectual.  But  that  there  is  a  call  or 
work  of  the  Spirit  which  is  effectual,  and  which  never 
fails  to  bring  the  soul  to  a  hearty  compliance  with  the 
terms  of  the  Gospel,  we  think  abundantly  evident  from 
the  Scriptures.  Such  a  call  had  Zaccheus,  the  publican, 
when  Christ  said  to  him,  "  Come  down,  for  to-day  I  must 
23 


354 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 


abide  at  thy  house."  He  had  climbed  the  sycamore 
tree  to  see  Jesus,  who  he  was,  and  from  no  higher 
motives,  it  would  seem,  than  to  gratify  his  curiosity.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  he  came  down  a  very  different  man  from 
what  he  was  wThen  he  went  up.  He  came  down  a  sin- 
cere penitent  and  a  true  believer,  ready  to  do  justice  to 
those  whom  he  had  injured,  and  to  bestow  one  half  of 
his  goods  to  feed  the  poor.  That  the  change  was  thus 
sudden  and  effectual  is  manifest  from  what  Christ  said 
in  the  presence  of  his  friends  immediately  after:  "This 
day  is  salvation  come  to  this  house,  forasmuch  as  he  also 
is  a  son  of  Abraham;  for  the  Son  of  Man  is  come  to  seek 
and  to  save  that  which  was  lost." 

Such  a  call  had  Matthew^  who  was  sitting  at  the  re- 
ceipt of  custom,  and  who,  as  well  as  Zaccheus,  was  a 
publican  by  profession,  or  a  tax-gatherer — an  employ- 
ment so  odious  among  the  Jews,  that  nothing  but  the 
love  of  money  could  induce  any  of  their  countrymen  to 
pursue  it.     While  at  his  office,  receiving  the  taxes  and 
custom  imposed  by  the  Roman  law,  Jesus  said  to  him, 
"  Follow  me  ;"  and  such  a  power  went  with  his  words, 
that  he  instantly  arose  and  followed  him,  leaving  his  lucra- 
tive employment  to  become  a  disciple  and  companion  of 
Jesus  in  the  labors  and  sufferings  of  the  Gospel.     A  call, 
equally  discriminating  and  effectual,  is  mentioned  by  the 
Apostle  in  the  eighth  of  Romans :  "  And  we  know  that 
all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God, 
to  them  that  are  the  called  according  to  his  purpose." 
But  who  are  the  called  according  to  God's  purpose  ? 
Not  all,  surely,  who  receive  the  outward  call  of  the  Gos- 
pel ;  not  all,  indeed,  who  are   more  or  less  moved  upon 
by  the  Divine  Spirit ;  none,  most  certainly,  but  those  who 
love  God ;  none  but  those  to  whom  all  things  work  to- 
gether for  their  good ;  for  here  they  that  love  God,  and 
they  that  are  the  called,  by  way  of  eminence,  are  the 
very  same  persons.     But  what  does  their  calling  import  ? 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING.  355 

Plainly  that  inward  and  efficacious  work  of  the  Spirit, 
by  which  they  are  called  out  of  a  state  of  sin  and  death 
into  a  state  of  life  and  peace.  It  is  something  done 
according  to  God's  purpose,  and  with  reference  to  their 
salvation :  and  the  next  words  tell  us  what  that  some- 
thing is :  "  For  whom  he  did  foreknow,  or  fore-acknow  ; 
ledge,  he  also  did  predestinate  to  be  conformed  to  the 
image  of  his  Son,  that  he  might  be  the  first-born 
among  many  brethren.  Moreover,  whom  he  did  pre- 
destinate them  he  also  called ;"  called  by  the  power  of 
his  Spirit  in  their  hearts,  (or  else  their  sanctification  is 
wholly  overlooked  by  the  Apostle  in  this  passage  :  "  Andf 
whom  he  called  them  he  also  justified,  and  whom  he  jus- 
tified them  he  also  glorified.")  What  other  meaning 
can  be  put  upon  the  word  "  called/'  in  this  pas- 
sage ?  Will  you  say,  contrary  to  the  established  use  in 
other  places,  that  those  whom  God  predestinated  to  be 
conformed  to  the  image  of  his  Son,  them  he  called  sons, 
or  gave  them  the  name  of  sons  ?  I  ask,  then,  how  they 
came  by  the  nature  of  sons,  if  that  nature  they  have  ? 
Foreknowing  them  did  not  give  them  this  nature.  Pre- 
destinating them  to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  his 
Son  did  not  give  them  this  conformity.  For  a  mere 
purpose  to  do  a  thing  does  not  do  it.  Justifying  them 
does  not  give  them  this  nature,  for  this  is  the  mere  act 
of  God,  declaring  them  absolved  from  their  sins,  and 
entitled  to  life.  Nor  would  glorifying  them  give  them 
the  nature  of  sons ;  for  this  would  be  only  advancing 
them  to  a  state  of  honor — a  state  absurd  and  prepos- 
terous indeed,  if  they  remained  under  the  power  of 
their  sinful  passions  and  propensities.  Nothing  could 
give  them  this  nature  but  the  regenerating  and  sanctify- 
ing influence  of  the  Spirit,  who  makes  all  the  heirs  of 
glory  meet  for  their  eternal  inheritance. 

Is  it  then  to  be  believed,  that  while  mentioning  in 
their  order  those  glorious  acts  of  the  Divine  mercy,  by 


356  ON     EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

which   sinners   are   rescued   from    eternal   misery  and 
brought  to  everlasting  life,  the  Apostle  should  leave  out 
of  view  altogether  so  great,  so  distinguishing  a  work  as 
that  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  imparting  spiritual  life  to  the 
soul,  and  giving  it  all  its  qualifications  for  the  enjoyment 
of  heaven  ?     Let  those  believe  this  who  can.     We  are 
not  of  that  number.     In  the  first  chapter  of  the  first 
Epistle  to  the   Corinthians,  we   find  a  passage  which 
clearly  evinces  the  doctrine  of  an  effectual  call.     Verses 
23,  24 :  "  But  we  preach  Christ  crucified,  unto  the  Jews 
a  stumbling-block,  and  unto  the  Greeks  foolishness ;  but 
unto  them  which  are   called,  both  Jews   and   Greeks, 
Christ  the  power  of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God."     But 
were    not    all    called    to   whom    Christ    crucified   was 
preached  ?     Most  certainly.     They  were  called  by  the 
external  call  of  the  Gospel,  and  this  call  was  loud,  sol- 
emn and  sincere.     But  with  all  it  was  not   effectual. 
Many  neglected  and  despised  it,  and  brought  upon  them- 
selves a  heavier  condemnation.     But  there  was  another 
call  received  by  some — a  call  of  a  higher  and  more  effi- 
cacious character;   and  therefore  it  is  said  that  "unto 
them  which  are  called,  both  Jews  and  Greeks,  (distin- 
guishing them  from  others,)  we  preach  Christ  the  power 
of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God."     Here,  then,  was  a 
call  peculiar,  sovereign  and  effectual ;  for  to  those  who 
received  it,  and  to  those  only,  did  Christ  become  "  the 
power  of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God." 

And  in  connection  with  this,  and  correspondent  with 
it,  the  Apostle  adds  in  the  verses  which  follow,  "  Ye  see 
your  calling,  brethren  " — not  your  calling  as  ministers, 
as  some  have  supposed,  but  your  calling  as  Christians — 
"  Ye  see  your  calling,  brethren,  how  that  not  many  wise 
men  after  the  flesh,  not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble, 
are  called.  But  God  hath  chosen  the  foolish  things  of 
the  world  to  confound  the  wise ;  and  God  hath  chosen 
the  weak  things  of  the  world  to  confound  the  mighty ; 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

and  base  things  of  the  world,  and  things  that  are  de- 
spised, hath  God  chosen ;  yea,  and  things  that  are  not 
to  bring  to  nought  things  that  are."  And  why  ?'  "  That 
no  flesh  should  glory  in  his  presence,"  as  though  one 
had  made  himself  better  than  another;  but  that  all 
might  acknowledge  their  indebtedness  to  his  sovereign 
mercy.  "  For  of  him  are  ye  in  Christ  Jesus,"  (if  there 
at  all,)  "  who  of  God  is  made  unto  us  wisdom,  and  right- 
eousness, and  sanctification,  and  redemption."  The 
meaning  is  not  that  Christ  was  appointed  to  be  all 
this  to  us,  but  that  he  is  actually  made  this  to  us  by  the 
sovereign  and  almighty  agency  of  God,  in  bringing  us  to 
believe  on  his  name;  and  therefore  it  is  added  that 
"according  as  it  is  written,  he  that  glorieth,  let  him 
glory  in  the  Lord." 

Now,  if  it  were  otherwise,  if  they  had  embraced 
Christ  because  they  were  better  than  others,  or  had 
made  a  better  improvement  of  their  gifts  and  advantages, 
(as  is  sometimes  said,)  they  would  have  had  some 
cause  of  glorying  in  themselves,  seeing  it  was  owing  to 
their  own  peculiar  efforts  that  such  a  wide  and  important 
difference  now  existed  between  them  and  others  who 
still  remained  in  unbelief.  But  as  this  was  not  the  fact — 
as  their  embracing  Christ,  and  becoming  partakers  of  the 
blessings  of  redemption,  was  of  God,  wholly  owing  to 
his  sovereign  and  efficacious  call — all  ground  of  glorying 
in  themselves  was  forever  removed. 

You  will  find  the  same  effectual  call  alluded  to  in  the 
first  chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians,  verse  17, 
where  the  Apostle  tells  his  brethren  that  he  made  it  the 
constant  subject  of  his  prayers  to  the  Father  of  mercies, 
"  That  the  eyes  of  their  understanding  being  enlight- 
ened, they  might  know  what  is  the  hope  of  his  (God's) 
calling,  and  what  the  riches  of  the  glory  of  his  inherit- 
ance in  the  saints,  and  what  the  exceeding  greatness  of 
his  power  towards  them  that  believe,  according  to  the 


358  ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

working  of  his  mighty  power  which  he  wrought  in 
Christ  Jesus  when  he  raised  him  from  the  dead  and  set 
him  at  his  own  right  hand  in  the  heavenly  places." 
Now,  what  is  that  calling  which  is  here  considered  as 
the  calling  of  God  the  Father,  and  his  calling  by  way  of 
eminence  or  distinction  ?  a  calling  full  of  hope,  which 
none  can  understand  but  those  whose  eyes  are  enlight- 
ened ?  a  calling  connected  with  the  glory  of  God's  in- 
heritance in  the  saints,  and  with  the  exceeding  great- 
ness of  his  power  towards  them  that  believe  ?  Was  it, 
think  you,  a  mere  external  call  ?  a  call  to  outward  privi- 
leges common  to  all  who  hear  the  Gospel  ?  a  call  which 
men  may  be  the  subjects  of  and  yet  live  and  die  in  un- 
belief ?  Or  was  it  a  sovereign  and  invincible  call  ?  a 
call  of  the  Spirit,  which  quickens  those  that  are  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins  and  makes  them  alive  unto  God  ? 
a  call  of  no  less  energy  than  that  which  awakened  the 
sleeping  Saviour  from  his  tomb  and  placed  him  at  God's 
right  hand  in  the  heavens,  far  above  all  principality  and 
power  ?  I  leave  you  most  cheerfully  to  judge,  after  put- 
ting two  questions  which  ought  never  to  be  overlooked 
when  examining  this  subject.  (1.)  To  what  end  does 
God  work  in  men,  either  first  or  last,  with  the  exceeding 
greatness  of  his  power,  and  according  to  the  working  of 
his  mighty  power  which  he  wrought  in  Christ  Jesus 
when  he  raised  him  from  the  dead,  if  it  be  not  to  raise 
them  from  a  death  of  sin  unto  a  life  of  righteousness  ? 
And,  (2,)  is  it  possible  that  after  he  has  thus  wrought  in 
them,  and  notwithstanding  this  working,  called  also  by 
the  Apostle  his  effectual  working,  they  should  still  re- 
main dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,  and  under  the  reign- 
ing power  of  unbelief? 

I  cannot  detain  you  with  the  consideration  of  all  the 
places  in  which  a  call  thus  effectual  is  either  expressed 
or  intimated ;  let  me,  however,  just  refer  you  to  two  or 
three  of  this  character.  Thus  Paul,  in  his  second  Epistle 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

to  Timothy :  "  Be  not  thou  therefore  ashamed  of  the 
testimony  of  the  Lord,  nor  of  me  his  prisoner;  but 
be  thou  a  partaker  of  the  afflictions  of  the  Gospel  ac- 
cording to  the  power  of  God,  who  hath  saved  us  and 
called  us  with  an  holy  calling;  not  according  to  our 
works,  but  according  to  his  own  purpose  and  grace 
which  was  given  us  in  Christ  Jesus  before  the  world 
began."  Here  is  a  calling  evidently  peculiar  to  believers 
and  connected  with  salvation ;  a  calling  according  to  God's 
purpose  and  grace,  given  in  Christ  before  the  world 
began.  Thus,  too,  the  same  Apostle,  in  his  second 
Epistle  to  the  Thessalonians :  "  But  we  are  bound  to  give 
thanks  always  to  God  for  you,  brethren,  beloved  of  the 
Lord,  because  God  hath  from  the  beginning  chosen  you 
to  salvation  through  sanctification  of  the  Spirit  and  be- 
lief of  the  truth,  whereunto"  (or  to  which  state)  "he 
called  you  by  our  Gospel,  to  the  obtaining  of  the  glory 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

Three  things  are  here  distinctly  affirmed :  first,  that 
God  had,  from  the  beginning  or  from  everlasting,  chosen 
these  persons  to  salvation ;  secondly,  that  he  had  chosen 
them  to  salvation  through  sanctification  of  the  Spirit  and 
belief  of  the  truth  ;  and  thirdly,  that  to  this  state  of  sal- 
vation he  had  called  them  by  the  Gospel,  but  manifestly 
not  by  the  Gospel  alone,  for  they  were  called  to  the 
obtaining  of  the  glory  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  not  in 
the  sense  of  being  invited  to  it  simply,  but  of  being 
qualified  for  it,  and  by  promise  entitled  to  it. 

Judge  ye,  now,  whether  there  be  not  a  calling  of 
the  Spirit  which  is  sovereign  and  effectual — a  calling 
which  is  the  fruit  of  God's  electing  love,  and  which 
takes  place  with  regard  to  all  those  who  are  brought  to 
believe  unto  salvation.  It  is  this  which  is  primarily  re- 
spected by  the  Apostles  when  they  speak  of  the  high 
vocation  of  believers,  their  holy  and  heavenly  calling, 
and  their  calling  out  of  darkness  into  God's  marvelous 
light.  But  suppose  we  had  mistaken  the  use  of  this 


360  ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

term  in  the  passages  we  have  considered — a  point,  per- 
haps, which  we  should  not  very  readily  concede — yet 
suppose  it  were  the  fact,  the  doctrine  we  have  set  up  in 
this  discourse  would  be  no  less  plain  and  indubitable, 
viz. :  that  there  is  a  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  call  it  by 
what  name  you  will,  which  is  invincible  in  its  nature, 
and  which  is  by  way  of  eminence  the  true  and  proper 
cause  of  men's  repenting  and  believing,  or  complying 
with  the  terms  of  the  Gospel.  What  else  can  we  make 
of  such  a  declaration  as  this  ?  "  Of  his  own  will  begat 
he  us  with  the  word  of  truth,  that  we  should  be  a  kind 
of  first-fruits  of  his  creatures,"  (James  i.  18.)  The  Apos- 
tle had  just  said,  "  Do  not  err,  my  beloved  brethren. 
Every  good  gift  and  every  perfect  gift  is  from  above,  and 
cometh  down  from  the  Father  of  lights,  with  whom 
there  is  no  variableness  nor  shadow  of  turning ;"  and 
then  adds,  "  Of  his  own  will  begat  he  us  with  the  Word 
of  truth,"  as  if  nothing  could  be  more  free  and  sovereign 
than  this  operation,  and  nothing  more  entirely  and 
absolutely  God's  work.  Again :  "  But  God,  who  is  rich 
in  mercy,  for  his  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us,  even 
when  we  were  dead  in  sins,  hath  quickened  us  together 
with  Christ,  (by  grace  are  ye  saved,)  and  hath  raised  us 
up  together,  and  made  us  sit  together  in  heavenly  places 
in  Christ  Jesus."  Even  when  we  were  dead  in  sins, 
according  to  this,  did  th<e  love  of  God  find  us.  But  what 
did  this  love  do  ?  It  quickened  us  together  with  Christ; 
that  is,  raised  us  up  from  a  death  of  sin  to  a  life  of  holi- 
ness. But  perhaps  this  spiritual  resurrection  was  the 
consequence  of  faith  ?  How  can  this  be,  when  faith 
itself  is  rather  a  consequence  of  this  spiritual  quicken- 
ing, or,  at  any  rate,  is  involved  in  it  ?  Hence,  says  the 
Apostle,  in  the  words  which  follow :  "  By  grace  are  ye 
saved  through  faith,  and  that  (that  thing)  not  of  your- 
selves, it  is  the  gift  of  God :  not  of  works,  lest  any  man 
should  boast,  for  we  are  his  workmanship,  created  in 
Christ  Jesus  unto  good  works."  Certainly,  then,  if  we 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 


361 


are  his  workmanship,  we  are  not  our  own  workmanship, 
and  we  do  but  disparage  the  riches  of  his  grace,  if  we 
pretend  that  we  are.  What  could  be  more  decisive  than 
this  very  passage  of  the  doctrine  we  have  advocated  in 
this  Lecture,  that  it  is  wholly  owing  to  the  work  of  the 
Divine  Spirit  that  men  believe  unto  life  eternal  ? 

The  same  truth  is  taught  in  all  those  passages  which 
speak  of  God  as  circumcising  the  heart,  taking  away  the 
heart  of  stone,  and  giving  a  heart  of  flesh ;  of  his  putting 
his  fear  in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  writing  his  law  there ; 
in  short,  as  working  in  them  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  own 
good  pleasure.  So  it  must  be,  if  man  is  totally  depraved 
by  nature,  or  if  the  carnal  mind  be  enmity  against  God, 
not  subject  to  his  law,  neither  indeed  can  be.  For 
whence  should  there  come  into  the  heart  of  man  that 
which  is  truly  good,  if  not  from  the  regenerating  and 
sanctifying  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ?  Or  have  we  now 
to  learn  that  when  men  are  regenerated,  it  is  partly  of 
themselves,  and  partly  from  the  Spirit  of  God  ?  So 
taught  not  our  blessed  Lord,  when  he  said,  "  Except  a 
man  be  born  of  the  Spirit,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of 
God."  So  taught  not  his  Apostle,  when  he  said,  that  "  to 
as  many  as  received  him,  to  them  gave  he  power  to  be- 
come the  sons  of  God,  even  to  them  that  believed  on  his 
name,  who  were  born  not  of  blood,  nor  of  the  will  of  the 
flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man,  but  of  God."  But  I  have 
done  when  I  have  remarked,  that  though  it  is  God  that 
works  all  our  good  in  us  and  for  us,  and  though  our 
graces  are  but  the  fruits  of  his  Spirit,  yet  there  is  no 
constraint  upon  our  faculties,  nor  are  we  dragged  into 
his  kingdom  against  our  wills,  but  only  made  willing  in 
the  day  of  his  power.  This  is  the  creed  of  our  Church, 
and,  I  doubt  not,  the  doctrine  of  the  Bible;  but  you  must 
examine  and  judge  for  yourselves.  Some  of  the  objec- 
tions which  are  offered  against  our  view  of  the  subject, 
we  propose  hereafter  to  consider. 


LECTURE    XVI. 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 


IN  a  preceding  Lecture  we  considered  the  doctrine  of 
effectual  calling,  as  it  is  embraced  in  our  standards,  and, 
as  we  believe,  maintained  in  the  Scriptures.  In  an  effec- 
tual call  we  included  the  whole  work  of  conviction  and 
conversion — all  that  is  done  by  the  Holy  Spirit  in  turning 
men  from  darkness  to  light,  and  from  the  power  of  sin 
and  Satan  unto  God.  We  did  not  assert,  nor  do  we  be- 
lieve, that  this  work  is  accomplished  without  the  use  of 
means.  God's  kingdom  is  pre-eminently  a  kingdom  of 
means.  Both  in  the  natural  and  moral  world,  we  per- 
ceive him  carrying  forward  a  system  of  operations 
through  the  medium  of  second  causes,  or  in  connection 
with  them.  And  this  is  nowhere  more  true  than  in  the 
work  of  our  salvation,  where  the  Word  and  ordinances 
of  God  are  among  the  stated  means  he  employs.  Yet 
none  of  these  means  would  prove  effectual  without  the 
agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  It  is  the  Spirit  which  thor- 
oughly convinces  men  of  sin,  of  righteousness,  and  of 
judgment ;  the  Spirit  which  enlightens  them  in  the  know- 
ledge of  Christ,  and  shows  them  the  necessity  of  a  vital 
union  to  him,  if  they  would  secure  the  pardon  of  sin  and 
eternal  life.  Still  this  is  not  done  without  the  instrument- 
ality of  the  Word.  They  who  never  hear  of  Christ  with- 
out, never  hear  of  him  within  ;  for  "  faith  cometh  by  hear- 
ing and  hearing  by  the  Word  of  God."  It  is  the  office  of 
the  Spirit,  having  enlightened  the  mind  and  renewed  the 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

will,  to  persuade  and  enable  us  to  embrace  Jesus  Christ 
as  he  is  freely  offered  to  us  in  the  Gospel.  As  to  the 
simple  act  of  renewing  the  will,  if  anything  is  meant  by 
it  different  from  giving  the  will  a  right  direction  in  view 
of  the  objects  presented,  we  would  not  contend  for  the 
use  of  means.  But  if,  as  some  able  writers  suppose,  this 
language  implies  no  more  than  giving  the  will  a  new  di- 
rection, or  efficiently  determining  it  to  choose  that  which 
is  good,  then  it  seems  that  the  Word  is  concerned  as  an 
instrument  of  this  change,  if  it  be  only  in  furnishing  an 
object  on  which  the  right  choice  terminates.  Be  this  as 
it  may,  it  is  sufficient  for  our  purpose  to  have  it  under- 
stood that  effectual  calling  is  not  one  single  act,  but  a 
series  of  acts ;  or,  more  properly,  a  work  including  both 
conviction  and  conversion — a  work  which  is  never  ac- 
complished without  the  instrumentality  of  the  Word. 
Hence  we  read :  "  Of  his  own  will  begat  he  us  by  the 
Word  of  truth,  that  we  should  be  a  kind  of  first-fruits  of 
his  creatures."  And  hence,  also,  it  is  said :  "  God  hath 
from  the  beginning  chosen  you  to  salvation  through  sanc- 
tification  of  the  Spirit  and  belief  of  the  truth,  whereunto 
he  hath  called  you  by  our  Gospel  to  the  obtaining  of  the 
glory  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

That  there  is  an  outward  call  common  to  all  where 
the  Gospel  comes,  and  that  this  call  is  sincere  and  ur- 
gent, we  hold  to  be  just  as  certain  as  that  Jesus  Christ 
commanded  his  Disciples  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  every 
creature,  without  distinction  of  nation  or  condition.  And 
that  there  is  an  inward  call  separate  from  this — a  call  of 
the  Spirit,  which  becomes  effectual  in  all  the  subjects  of 
it,  by  causing  them  to  comply  with  the  terms  of  the 
Gospel — we  no  more  doubt  than  we  doubt  the  truth  of 
the  Bible,  or  that  there  is  any  such  thing  as  salvation 
provided  for  any  of  the  guilty  children  of  men. 

In  support  of  this  truth  we  directed  our  attention  to 
such  passages  as  these  :  "  And  we  know  that  all  things 


364  ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God,  to  them 
who  are  the  called  according  to  his  purpose.  For  whom 
he  did  foreknow  them  he  also  did  predestinate  to  be  con- 
formed to  the  image  of  his  Son.  Moreover,  whom  he 
did  predestinate,  them  he  also  called;  and  whom  he  called, 
them  he  also  justified  :  and  whom  he  justified  them  he 
also  glorified."  "  We  preach  Christ  crucified,  to  the 
Jews  a  stumbling  block,  and  to  the  Greeks  foolishness ; 
but  unto  them  which  are  called,  Christ  the  power  of 
God  and  the  wisdom  of  God."  "  Ye  see  your  calling 
brethren,  how  that  not  many  wise  men  after  the  flesh, 
not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble,  are  called ;  but  God 
hath  chosen  the  foolish  things  of  the  world  to  confound 
the  wise,"  *  *  "  that  no  flesh  should  glory  in  his 
presence."  "  Be  thou  partaker  of  the  afflictions  of  the 
Gospel,  according  to  the  power  of  God  which  hath  saved 
us,  and  called  us  with  an  holy  calling ;  not  according  to 
our  works,  but  according  to  his  own  purpose  and  grace, 
which  was  given  us  in  Christ  Jesus  before  the  world 
began. 

Such  a  call,  we  remarked,  was  verified  in  the  case 
of  Zaccheus  the  publican,  and  of  Matthew  sitting  at  the 
receipt  of  custom ;  of  Saul  of  Tarsus,  when  Jesus  met 
him  under  the  walls  of  Damascus,  and  of  the  thousands 
wrho  repented  and  believed  on  the  day  of  Pentecost. 

A  like  call,  though  under  a  different  name,  we  showed 
was  clearly  indicated  in  those  forms  of  expression  which 
set  forth  our  conversion  under  the  figure  of  a  new  birth, 
a  new  creation,  and  a  resurrection  from  the  dead.  But 
if  the  Scriptures  were  less  express  on  the  point,  we  con- 
tended that  the  doctrine  could  not  reasonably  be  denied, 
so  long  as  it  is  evident  that  the  heart  of  man  is  totally 
depraved  by  nature,  every  thought  and  imagination  be- 
ing evil  and  only  evil  continually.  For  whence  should 
a  different  temper  and  spirit  be  derived,  if  not  from  the 
effectual  working  of  the  Divine  power — a  power  declared 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

to    be   according   to    God's   mighty   power,  which   he 
wrought  in  Christ  Jesus  when  he  raised  him  from  the 
dead  and  set  him  at  his  own  right  hand  in  the  heavenly 
places  ?     Can  we  believe  such  a  power  necessary  with- 
out questioning  the  sufficiency  of  all  human  help  ?     Can 
we  believe  such  a  power  exerted,  and  the  subject  of  it 
after  all  remain  in  the  grave  of  sin  and  unbelief?     Or 
if  we  suppose  the  mighty  power  of  God  to  be  concerned 
in  raising  men  from  a  death  of  sin,  can  we  imagine  that 
they  do  really  assist  him  in  this  work,  beginning  with 
him  and  carrying  on  a  co-ordinate   operation  ?     What 
can  darkness  do  towards  producing  light  ?  and  what  will 
a  selfish  heart  accomplish  towards  the  production  of  true 
benevolence  ?     No    stream  ever  flows  higher  than  its 
fountain;  and  no   tree   ever  brings  forth  fruit  different 
from  or  in  opposition  to  its   nature.     But  against  this 
whole  statement  many  are  prepared  to  make  objections. 
First.  It  wars  against  the  liberty  of  the  creature,  and 
either  supposes  or  makes  him  a  machine. 

Second.  It  teaches  sinners  that  they  must  wait  until  the 
moving  of  the  waters,  or  until  God  works  upon  them, 
and  that  all  means  of  course  are  useless ;  nay, 

Third.  That  if  God  work  in  some  and  not  in  others,  he 
is  partial  and  properly  a  respecter  of  persons,  contrary 
to  his  own  declaration.  And, 

Fourth.  Finally,  if  the  doctrine  now  stated  be  true,  it 
ought  not  to  be  preached,  since  it  tends  only  to  confound 
and  discourage,  and  will  naturally  lead  to  licentiousness. 
Nothing  is  easier  than  to  make  objections;    nor  is 
there  a  truth  in  the  Bible  which  cannot  be  assailed  in  a 
plausible  manner  by  the  secret  workings  of  unbelief,  or 
by  "  the  subtle  craftiness  of  men  who  lie  in  wrait  to  de- 
ceive."    But  what  will  all  our  objections  amount  to  if 
they  stand  opposed  to  the  revealed  truth  of  God  ?    Many 
objected  to  the  doctrines  which  Christ  himself  taught, 
and  charged   him   sometimes   with   contradiction,  and 


366  ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

sometimes  with  blasphemy ;  but  their  objections,  though 
very  confidently  urged,  did  not  nullify  the  truth,  nor 
induce  our  Lord  either  to  take  back  or  modify  his  words. 
The  same  thing  occurred  in  relation  to  his  Apostles. 
They  advanced  things  which  many  could  not  receive, 
and  to  which  they  attached  by  way  of  objection  the 
most  horrible  consequences,  thereby  overthrowing  the 
faith  of  some.  Nevertheless,  the  truth  of  God  was  not 
overthrown ;  nor  can  it  now  be,  however  numerous  or 
plausible  the  objections  which  men  may  urge  against 
it.  Our  great  concern  should  be  rightly  to  interpret 
God's  Word,  and  to  receive  it  precisely  in  that  sense  in 
which  the  Holy  Spirit  manifestly  intended  it;  and  though 
difficulties  should  be  raised  which  we  cannot  easily 
solve,  they  should  not  abate  our  confidence  in  the  Divine 
testimony.  The  Word  of  the  Lord  abideth  forever,  and 
his  salvation  from  generation  to  generation ;  while  they 
who  oppose  it  are  condemned  to  consume  away.  "  The 
moth  shall  eat  them  up  like  a  garment,  and  the  worm 
shall  eat  them  like  wool." 

But  let  us  in  the  spirit  of  candor  examine  the  objec- 
tions which  are  brought  against  the  doctrine  of  an  effect- 
ual call. 

First.  We  are  told  by  some  that  it  militates  against  the 
liberty  of  the  creature,  and  either  makes  or  supposes 
him  a  machine.  But  how  so  ?  What  does  an  effectual 
call  do  but  make  men  willing  to  obey  the  Gospel,  who 
before  were  unwilling  ?  It  removes  their  aversion  to 
God,  by  shedding  abroad  his  love  in  their  hearts.  It 
takes  away  the  heart  of  stone,  and  gives  an  heart  of  flesh. 
But  what  constraint  is  there  here  which  stands  opposed 
to  moral  liberty  ?  Does  not  the  renewed  soul  act  freely 
in  repenting  and  believing,  in  loving  and  obeying  the 
truth  ?  Every  child  of  God  knows  that  he  is  perfectly 
free  and  voluntary  in  all  his  gracious  exercises.  Nor 
can  we  conceive  how  God's  working  in  him  to  will  ope- 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

rates  against  his  freedom,  unless  you  suppose  that  be- 
cause God  works  in  him  to  will,  therefore  he  does  not 
will ;  which  is  as  repugnant  to  the  Bible  as  to  common 
sense. 

"  Thy  people  shall  be  willing  in  the  day  of  thy  power," 
said  the  Almighty  Father  to  the  Son,  which  implies  that 
they  should  be  willing,  in  consequence  of  his  power  ex- 
erted to  make  them  willing,  and  who  are  we  that  we 
should  oppose  our  notions  of  human  liberty  to  the  posi- 
tive declarations  of  God. 

But  what  is  human  liberty  ?  I  speak  of  that  liberty 
which  is  essential  to  every  free  and  accountable  agent. 
Does  it  imply  anything  more  or  less,  than  a  power  of 
willing  or  choosing  ?  or  of  being  the  subject  of  voluntary 
exertion  ?  We  say  of  a  man,  he  is  rational  when  he 
reasons  ;  and,  with  the  same  propriety,  we  say  that  a  man 
is  voluntary  when  he  wills.  We  need  not  inquire  into 
the  cause.  Whatever  that  may  be  it  alters  not  the  fact. 
It  is  still  true,  that  he  who  reasons  is  rational,  and  he 
who  wills  is  voluntary.  Doubtless  there  is  a  cause  in 
both  cases,  and  a  cause  adequate  to  the  effect,  unless 
we  adopt  one  of  two  absurdities,  either  that  an  effect 
can  exist  without  a  cause,  or  that  the  actions  of  crea- 
tures are  not  effects.  With  respect  to  all  holy  actions, 
the  Scriptures  are  express  in  pointing  out  the  cause.* 
They  tell  us  it  is  God  that  works  in  us  to  will  and  to  do 
of  his  own  good  pleasure.  They  tell  us  that  all  true 
believers  are  God's  workmanship,  created  in  Christ  Jesus 
unto  good  works ;  and  that  all  the  exercises  or  graces 
of  the  new  man  are  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit ;  and  that  for 
the  very  purpose  of  producing  them  the  Holy  Spirit 
dwells  in  the  hearts  of  believers,  and  works  in  them  by 
a  power  which  is  almighty.  "  But,"  says  the  objector, 
"  then  their  wills  are  certainly  determined  in  one  way ; 

*  The  ultimate,  the  controlling  cause. 


3(38  ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

then  it  becomes  necessary  that  they  should  will  and  act 
as  they  do,  and  how  is  this  compatible  with  their  free- 
dom ?"  I  ask,  how  does  it  destroy  their  freedom  ?  Do 
they  not  will  ?  And  what  other  idea  can  we  have  of  a 
free  agent,  but  of  one  that  wills  or  acts  voluntarily  ? 
Must  there  be  no  previous  certainty  in  men's  actions,  no 
motives  which  certainly  determine  them  to  act  in  one 
way  rather  than  another,  in  order  to  their  being  free  ? 
Were  it  so,  the  very  foreknowledge  of  God  would  destroy 
men's  freedom  ;  or  must  there  be  a  state  of  indifference, 
a  freedom  from  all  inclination  either  to  good  or  to  evil, 
to  constitute  men  free  ?  If  this  were  the  fact,  sinners 
are  not  free,  who,  by  nature,  are  under  a  strong  and 
habitual  inclination  to  do  evil ;  and  if  not  free,  they  are 
not  accountable,  and  God  is  unrighteous  who  taketh 
vengeance.  If  this  were  the  fact,  the  saints  and  angels 
in  heaven  are  not  free  ;  nor  even  Jehovah  himself,  who 
is  perpetually  and  unchangeably  inclined  to  do  right,  and 
cannot  possibly  do  wrong.  And  to  affirm  that  there  is 
no  freedom  in  heaven,  is  the  same  thing  as  to  say  that 
there  is  no  virtue  there. 

The  simple  and  unvarnished  truth  on  this  subject  is, 
that  God  works  all  our  good  in  us,  but  in  a  way  which 
does  no  violence  to  our  faculties.  He  enlightens  our 
understandings,  and  we  see ;  he  inclines  our  hearts  to 
the  right  way,  and  we  choose  it ;  he  draws  us,  and  we 
run  after  him ;  and  though  this  is  done  by  an  agency 
which  is  effectual,  yet  it  in  no  degree  militates  against 
our  freedom.  His  action  in  this  case  is  indeed  the  cause 
of  our  action.  Still  it  is  true  that  we  act,  and  act  freely 
in  the  full  possession  of  all  our  powers.  It  is  God  who 
sheds  abroad  his  love  in  the  heart,  but  we  who  love.  It 
is  God  who  gives  repentance,  but  we  who  repent ;  God 
who  gives  faith,  but  we  who  believe  ;  and  so  of  all  other 
graces. 

But  what  if  God  does  not  impart  these  graces  ?     Why, 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 


369 


it  is  certain  that  we  shall  never  have  them.  They  are 
fruits  which  are  not  formed  in  nature's  garden  ;  they  are 
fruits  which  grow  not  upon  our  native  stock,  till  it  is 
engrafted  with  a  scion  from  above.  How  then,  you  will 
ask,  are  we  to  blame  if  we  never  possess  them  ?  If  they 
are  God's  gift,  and  he  does  not  see  fit  to  bestow  them, 
can  we  help  it  ?  And  will  he  condemn  us  for  not  being 
what  his  grace  alone  can  make  us  ?  This  is  the  very 
pith  of  the  controversy  which  every  unregenerate  soul 
has  with  God  ;  every  one,  I  mean,  whose  heart  is  awake 
to  this  subject.  And  I  should  show  my  ignorance  of  the 
depth  of  human  depravity,  if  I  supposed  that  I  could  at 
once  clear  away  the  difficulty,  and  satisfy  the  complaining 
heart  upon  this  point. 

Two  things,  however,  are  certain,  whether  men  can 
receive  them  or  not,  that  God  is  righteous  who  taketh 
vengeance,  and  that  he  will  take  vengeance  on  those 
who  shall  live  and  die  in  a  state  of  unbelief. 

But  how  could  God  be  righteous  in  taking  vengeance 
on  the  unbeliever  unless  his  unbelief  were  a  sin,  and 
how  could  unbelief  be  a  sin,  unless  faith  and  its  attend- 
ant graces  were  a  duty  ?  It  is  plain  from  the  Scripture, 
that  men  are  bound  to  repent  and  believe,  and  to  yield 
universal  obedience  to  the  Gospel.  But  what  is  the 
foundation  of  this  obligation?  Why,  says  the  Arminian, 
if  they  will  do  the  best  they  can  with  their  wicked 
hearts,  God  will  give  them  his  grace,  and  enable  them 
to  repent  and  believe.  But  this  is  manifestly  a  departure 
from  the  Bible.  There  is  not  one  promise  of  grace  to 
the  graceless  endeavors  of  unrenewed  men  in  all  the 
book  of  God.  And  if  there  were,  it  would  not  be  their 
immediate  duty  to  repent  and  believe,  but  only  to  use 
the  means  to  get  faith  and  repentance,  which  might  be 
at  the  end  of  one  year,  or  of  ten  years.  But  the  lan- 
guage of  God  to  sinners  is,  "  To-day  if  ye  will  hear  his 
voice,  harden  not  your  hearts" — "Behold  now  is  the 
24 


370 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 


accepted  time."  He  says  nothing  of  to-morrow ;  nay, 
"  God  now  requireth  all  men  everywhere  to  repent." 
The  command  no  sooner  reaches  them  than  their  obli- 
gation is  complete.  If  they  live  in  impenitence  another 
moment  they  violate  the  command,  and  dying  in  this 
state,  they  will  bring  down  a  double  vengeance  upon 
their  heads.  But  still  the  question  returns,  what  is  the 
foundation  of  their  obligation  to  repent  or  believe  ?  I 
answer,  the  command  of  God.  If  you  ask  why  this  com- 
mand binds,  I  reply,  because  we  are  complete  moral 
agents,  though  fallen,  and  the  duty  enjoined  is  such  as 
becomes  a  righteous  God  to  require  of  creatures  possess- 
ing our  capacity,  and  placed  in  our  condition.  This  is 
the  footing  on  which  God's  Word  puts  this  subject  from 
beginning  to  end,  and  here  will  conscience  place  it  in  a 
dying  hour.  To  make  our  duty  to  repent  or  believe  to 
depend  in  any  measure  upon  the  gift  of  the  Spirit,  is  to 
overthrow  God's  law,  and  to  annihilate  the  grace  of 
the  Gospel.  It  overturns  God's  law.  Because  such  a 
position  goes  upon  the  absurd  principle  that  we  are  bound 
to  obey  God  only  where  we  have  a  heart,  and  to  obey 
him  in  such  degree  only  as  we  have  that  heart.  What 
becomes  then  of  his  authority  ?  Our  dispositions  are  the 
only  measure  and  rule  of  our  conduct.  I  need  not  say 
that  here  is  no  law,  unless  you  would  call  that  a  law 
which  licenses  every  one  to  do  as  he  pleases. 

It  annihilates  the  grace  of  the  Gospel.  For  if  we  are 
not  bound  to  repent  and  believe,  whether  God  grant  us 
his  Spirit  or  not,  then  God  cannot,  in  justice,  call  us  to 
repentance  or  faith  unless  he  send  his  Spirit  to  work 
these  tempers  in  us.  And  what  is  this,  but  to  make  the 
gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  his  sanctifying  power  (one  of 
the  freest  and  richest  of  God's  favors)  a  matter  of  debt, 
and  not  of  mercy  or  grace  ?  But  putting  aside  this  train 
of  reasoning,  let  me  make  the  appeal  directly  to  every 
man's  bosom,  if  anything  can  be  more  just  and  reason- 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 


371 


able  than  the  requisitions  which  God  makes  upon  us  ? 
He  requires  us  to  love  him  who  is  infinitely  lovely ;  to 
be  thankful  to  him  from  whom  all  our  blessings  flow ;  to 
fear  him  who  is  clothed  with  eternal  power  and  justice ; 
and  to  trust  in  him  whose  mercy  is  revealed  in  the  Gos- 
pel, and  whose  truth,  having  its  foundations  deeper 
than  the  everlasting  mountains,  is  absolutely  inviolable. 
Wherein  we  have  done  wrong,  he  requires  us  to  be 
sorry  for  that  wrong,  and  with  unfeigned  sincerity  to 
forsake  it.  Is  there  anything  hard  or  unjust  in  all  this  ? 
Does  not  every  one  of  these  requirements  approve  itself 
to  our  reason  and  conscience  ?  And  still  it  is  a  truth, 
demonstrated  by  experience  as  well  as  by  the  Word  of 
God,  that  such  is  our  depravity  that  we  shall  never  truly 
comply  with  one  of  these  commands,  unless  we  are  en- 
lightened and  sanctified  from  above.  Our  duty  and  our 
dependence  are  both  obvious,  .nor  do  they  in  the  least 
degree  clash  with  each  other.  Let  us  never  more  hear, 
then,  that  our  dependence  on  God  destroys  our  liberty 
and  accountability,  or  converts  us  into  machines.  The 
fact  is,  if  we  were  machines,  we  should  have  no  duty  to 
perform,  and  of  course  should  require  no  special  aid  to 
perform  it.  Nor  should  we  require  any  aid  as  it  is — I 
mean  any  peculiar  and  special  aid — if  it  were  not  for  our 
deep-rooted  depravity,  which  renders  us  disinclined  to 
the  duties  which  God  has  most  justly  demanded. 

Second.  But  again,  it  is  said  that  the  doctrine  of  an  ef- 
fectual call  teaches  sinners  that  they  have  nothing  to  do 
but  to  sit  down  and  wait  for  the  operations  of  the  Spirit. 
If  it  is  God  who  begins  with  sinners,  and  God  who  by 
his  sovereign  and  almighty  grace  converts  them,  it  is  of 
no  use  for  them  to  attempt  anything ;  they  may  as  well 
read  a  novel  as  the  Bible,  as  well  visit  the  tavern  and 
playhouse  as  the  courts  of  the  Lord,  as  well  curse  their 
God  and  look  upward  as  to  bow  their  knees  before  him 
in  prayer.  Two  things  are  taken  for  granted  in  this  ob- 


372  ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

jection,  which  are  utterly  and  manifestly  false.  First, 
that  because  God  works  in  men  to  will  and  to  do,  there- 
fore they  are  not  bound  to  do  anything  till  he  does  work. 
And  secondly,  that  God  does  not  work  by  means. 

The  first  thing  taken  for  granted  in  this  objection  is, 
that  because  God  works  in  men  to  will  and  to  do  of 
his  good  pleasure,  they  are  not  bound  to  do  anything 
until  he  does  work.  But  are  not  men  moral  agents 
and  under  law  to  God  as  we  have  before  shown,  and 
as  every  man's  conscience  will  compel  him  to  acknow- 
ledge ?  And  if  so,  are  they  not  bound  to  do  all  that 
God  requires  without  delay,  and  without  taking  into 
view  any  other  consideration  but  his  command,  as  the 
ground  of  their  obedience  ?  Their  obligation  is  full  and 
complete,  whether  he  grant  them  the  aids  of  his  spe- 
cial grace  or  not,  nor  does  their  obligation  depend  in 
the  smallest  degree  upon  this  circumstance  ;  otherwise 
his  law  is  a  dead  letter,  and  his  grace  no  longer  grace. 
So  far,  then,  is  it  from  being  true  that  sinners  have 
nothing  to  do  until  God  works  in  them,  that  they  have 
everything  to  do  which  the  Gospel  enjoins ;  and  if  they 
neglect  it  for  a  single  moment,  it  is  at  the  awful  peril 
of  eternal  death.  So  it  must  be  ;  or  God  must  give  up 
his  government  over  his  rational  creatures,  because  they 
have  rebelled  against  him,  and  are  madly  disposed  to 
persist  in  their  rebellion.  But  let  men  beware  how 
they  tread  upon  this  ground.  God  is  jealous  for  his 
name,  and  will  vindicate  the  rights  and  honors  of  his 
government  though  millions  perish  in  hell  to  all  eter- 
nity, as  the  just  and  fearful  consequence.  It  is  an 
easy  thing  now  for  the  sinner  to  plead  his  moral  impo- 
tence as  his  excuse,  and  to  find  fault  with  God  for  not 
giving  him  grace  to  comply  with  the  terms  of  the  Gos- 
pel. But  when  God  shall  awake  to  the  judgment  he  will 
convince  all  that  are  ungodly  of  all  their  ungodly  deeds, 
and  of  all  the  wicked  thoughts  and  hard  speeches  which 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING.  373 

they  have  indulged  against  him.  The  light  of  eternity 
will  dispel  the  delusion,  and  they  will  see  with  eyes  never 
to  be  closed,  that  God  is  in  the  right  and  they  in  the 
wrong — that  all  his  commandments  are  holy,  just  and 
good — and  that  they  are  utterly  without  excuse,  for  not 
having  yielded  to  them  a  ready  aud  cheerful  compli- 
ance. 

The  other  position  assumed  in  this  objection,  and 
which  is  plainly  void  of  all  foundation  is,  that  God  does 
not  work  by  means.  For  if  he  does  work  by  means, 
how  can  it  be  true  that  it  will  signify  nothing  for  the 
sinner  to  attempt  anything,  or  to  put  himself  in  the  way 
of  means  ?  How  can  it  be  true,  that  he  may  as  well  be 
in  the  tavern  or  playhouse,  as  in  the  house  of  the  Lord  ? 
That  he  is  as  likely  to  go  to  heaven  by  pouring  contempt 
upon  God's  Word,  as  by  seriously  and  prayerfully  read- 
ing it,  and  so  of  other  means  which  God  employs  to  con- 
vey truth  to  the  mind,  and  to  stir  up  the  conscience  of 
the  sinner.  I  admit  that  God  sometimes  works  without 
means,  that  is,  without  the  stated  and  ordinary  means  of 
reading  and  hearing  his  Word,  calling  upon  his  name, 
and  receiving  instruction  from  the  conversation  and 
pious  examples  of  others.  I  have  known  men  struck 
under  conviction  in  the  ball  room,  at  the  card  table,  and 
while  fearless  of  God's  majesty,  uttering  the  most  awful 
oaths  and  imprecations.  Sometimes  by  an  accidental 
wrord  dropt  in  conversation  from  the  lips  of  a  child,  or 
from  one  who  had  not  the  remotest  design  of  adminis- 
tering reproof  or  conviction.  Saul  was  convicted,  and 
converted,  too,  on  his  way  to  Damascus,  breathing  out 
threatenings  and  slaughter  against  the  followers  of  Jesus. 
But  what  then  ?  These  are  facts,  out  of  the  ordinary 
course,  and  occur  chiefly  to  illustrate  the  efficacy  and 
sovereignty  of  Divine  grace.  They  establish  no  rule  for 
judging  of  probabilities.  We  cannot  argue  from  them  that 
means  are  of  no  avail.  On  the  contrary,  we  are  certain 


374  ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

that  means  are  of  high  importance  in  the  matter  of  our 
salvation.  We  know  it  from  the  positive  declarations  of 
God  himself,  because  he  tells  us,  "  that  faith  cometh  by 
hearing,  and  hearing  by  the  Word  of  God;"  and  that  it 
is  by  the  foolishness  of  preaching,  (or  what  men  call 
foolishness,)  it  pleases  him  to  save  them  that  believe. 
We  know  it  from  the  general  course  of  his  providence. 
We  see  persons  brought  under  conviction  of  sin,  from 
their  attendance  upon  the  means  of  God's  appointment ; 
we  see  them  brought  out  of  darkness  into  his  marvelous 
light,  while  attending  upon  the  same  means.  We  see 
the  Lord's  people,  built  up  in  their  most  holy  faith,  be- 
coming more  firmly  rooted  in  the  doctrines  of  the  cross, 
and  waxing  stronger  and  stronger  in  the  grace  that  is  in 
Christ  Jesus,  through  the  agency  of  means ;  and  this  is 
the  steady  course  of  things  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion. Nay,  we  are  assured  from  well-founded  observa- 
tion, that  they  who  are  most  constant  and  most  serious 
in  their  attendance  upon  the  means  of  God's  ordaining, 
are  most  likely — other  things  being  equal — to  receive 
the  quickening  power  of  his  grace.  So  it  is  reasonable 
to  expect,  if  God  will  honor  his  own  institutions  and  has 
not  established  them  in  vain.  How  presumptuous  and 
how  dangerous  is  it,  then,  for  any  man  to  say,  If  God 
does  not  work,  I  will  not  work ;  if  he  does  not  begin 
with  me,  I  will  neglect  his  institutions,  and  despise  his 
sovereign  authority.  What  is  this  but  to  adopt  the  lan- 
guage of  ancient  contemners  of  God's  mercy,  "  No,  there 
is  no  hope ;  I  have  loved  strangers,  and  after  them  will 
I  go  ?"  How  righteous  a  thing  would  it  be  with  God  to 
say  of  such  persons,  Let  them  alone ;  in  a  little  while  I 
will  begin  a  work  with  them  which  shall  never  have  an 
end,  a  work  of  wonder  and  astonishment,  a  work  of  ter- 
ror and  of  wrath. 

But  do  not  mistake  the  purport  of  these  remarks. 
While  we  hold  that  there  is  vastly  more  hope  of  those 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 


375 


who  solemnly  and  prayerfully  consider  their  state  as 
sinners,  who  tremble  at  the  awful  denunciations  of  God's 
wrath  against  the  wicked,  and  who  diligently  attend 
upon  the  means  of  instruction;  I  say,  while  we  hold 
there  is  vastly  more  hope  of  persons  in  these  circum- 
stances, than  of  the  thoughtless  and  inconsiderate,  who 
either  do  not  attend  upon  the  means  of  God's  appoint- 
ment, or  attend  in  a  very  careless  and  heartless  manner, 
yet  our  hope  is  not  founded  in  any  degree  upon  the  idea, 
that  they  are  growing  better,  or  in  the  temper  of  their 
minds  approximating  to  a  state  of  holiness.  Nor  yet 
upon  the  supposition  that  they  are  doing  anything  to 
which  a  promise  of  renewing  grace  is  annexed,  for  we 
openly  maintain  that  there  is  no  such  promise  made  in 
the  Bible  to  the  doings  of  unrenewed  men.  Our  hope 
arises  simply  from  the  fact,  that  the  Lord  is  dealing  with 
them  in  a  special  way,  or  that  they  are  found  in  attend- 
ance upon  those  means  through  which  he  ordinarily  dis- 
penses the  blessings  of  his  grace. 

Third.  Let  me  hold  your  attention  a  few  moments 
longer,  while  we  consider  briefly  the  objection  so  often 
raised  against  the  effectual  calling  of  believers,  that  it 
makes  God  a  respecter  of  persons. 

Popular  as  this  objection  is,  it  is  in  reality  the  most 
futile  of  all,  and  is  founded  entirely  upon  a  misconcep- 
tion or  perversion  of  terms.  Let  any  man  once  settle  in 
his  mind  what  it  is  to  be. a  respecter  of  persons,  and  this 
objection  will  vanish  into  thin  air.  I  know  of  no  candid 
and  well-informed  Arminian  who  pretends  to  offer  it. 
What  is  the  point  here  objected  to  ?  Why,  that  God 
does  more  for  some  than  others  ;  which  is  certainly  true 
if  he  call  some  by  his  special  and  almighty  grace  to  the 
knowledge  and  acknowledgment  of  the  truth,  and  does 
not  thus  call  all.  But  while  we  maintain  this  fact  here 
stated,  we  deny  that  God  is  a  respecter  of  persons.  To 
be  a  respecter  of  persons  is  wholly  a  distinct  thing  from 


376  ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

making  a  difference  among  individuals  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  favors.  The  expression  has  no  sense  analogous 
to  this,  neither  in  the  Word  of  God,  nor  in  any  writer  of 
acknowledged  correctness,  either  ancient  or  modern. 
To  have  respect  to  persons  is  to  prefer  one  man  to 
another  on  some  improper  account :  "  as  w^hen  a  judge 
acquits  a  criminal  because  he  is  rich  or  powerful,  or  is 
his  friend  or  relation,"  while  he  would  have  condemned 
him  if  none  of  these  circumstances  had  been  permitted 
to  bias  his  mind  and  to  pervert  the  course  of  justice. 
Take  another  example.  I  owe  two  men  an  equal  sum 
of  money,  and  their  claims  on  me  are  equally  strong  for 
immediate  payment ;  but  because  one  is  my  friend,  and 
I  look  to  him  for  some  future  accommodation,  I  pay  him 
at  his  call,  and  refuse  to  pay  the  other.  In  this  case  I 
should  be  a  respecter  of  persons,  and  a  perverter  of 
justice.  But  where  justice  is  not  concerned,  where  no 
rights  are  contravened  by  my  giving  or  withholding, 
there  is  no  room  for  exercising  this  kind  of  partiality. 
There  I  cannot  be  a  respecter  of  persons,  distribute  my 
bounty  as  I  will. 

Dr.  Whitby,  who  is  known  to  be  a  violent  opposer  of 
the  doctrine  of  sovereign  and  efficacious  grace,  very 
justly  observes,  "that  the  bestowing  of  such  benefits  as 
are  merely  gratuitous  and  undeserved,  does  not  argue  a 
respect  of  persons ;  neither  is  it  respect  of  persons  to 
prefer  one  before  another  when  we  have  a  right  and  it  is 
our  pleasure  so  to  do." 

This  is  in  exact  coincidence  with  the  Bible,  which 
always  uses  this  term  in  relation  to  matters  of  right,  and 
generally  in  relation  to  the  administration  of  justice. 
Thus  in  the  nineteenth  of  Leviticus :  "  Ye  shall  do  no  un- 
righteousness in  judgment ;  thou  shalt  not  respect  the  per- 
son of  the  poor,  nor  honor  the  person  of  the  mighty ;  but  in 
righteousness  shalt  thou  judge  thy  neighbor."  And  again 
in  Deut.  i. :  "  Ye  shall  not  respect  persons  in  judgment, 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING.  377 

but  ye  shall  hear  the  small  as  well  as  the  great."  2  Chron. 
xix.  6 :  "  And  he  said  to  the  judges,  take  heed  what  ye 
do ;  for  ye  judge  not  for  man,  but  for  the  Lord ;  for 
there  is  no  iniquity  with  the  Lord  our  God,  nor  respect 
of  persons,  nor  taking  of  gifts."  So  in  Proverbs:  "It  is 
not  good  to  have  respect  to  persons  in  judgment."  This 
is  the  current  use  of  the  phrase  throughout  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, and  with  which  the  New  perfectly  corresponds. 
Thus  in  the  tenth  of  Acts  Peter  says,  "  of  a  truth  I  per- 
ceive that  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons ;  but  in  every 
nation,  he  that  feareth  God  and  worketh  righteousness 
is  accepted  of  him" — that  is,  he  treats  every  man  ac- 
cording to  his  character,  whether  he  be  Jew  or  Gentile, 
and  not  according  to  his  outward  condition  and  external 
relations.  If  he  be  a  truly  good  man  he  will  accept  him 
to  favor ;  if  he  be  otherwise,  he  will  not  accept  him. 
But  this  he  does  in  the  quality  of  a  righteous  Judge  ; 
and  to  name  but  one  passage  more  :  "Who  will  render 
to  every  man  according  to  his  deeds.  To  them  who 
by  patient  continuance  in  well-doing,  seek  for  glory  and 
honor  and  immortality,  eternal  life  :  but  unto  them  that 
are  contentious,  and  do  not  obey  the  truth,  but  obey  un- 
righteousness, indignation  and  wrath,  tribulation  and 
anguish,  upon  every  soul  of  man  that  doeth  evil ;  of  the 
Jew  first,  and  also  of  the  Gentile.  But  glory,  honor,  and 
peace  to  every  man  that  worketh  good ;  to  the  Jew  first, 
and  also  to  the  Gentile  ;  for  there  is  no  respect  of  persons 
with  God." 

These  passages  are  too  plain  to  need  comment.  They 
teach  in  the  most  decisive  manner,  that  having  respect 
to  persons  is  a  thing  totally  distinct  from  gratuitously 
conferring  favors,  that  it  relates  to  matters  of  justice  and 
equity  only,  and  is  merely  the  perversion  of  justice,  or 
the  contravention  of  right.  And  if  it  were  not  so,  God 
would  certainly  be  a  respecter  of  persons.  If  bestowing 


378  ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING. 

more  upon  one  than  another  would  lay  a  foundation  for 
this  charge — what  should  we  say  to  his  making  one  man 
rich  and  another  poor — of  his  endowing  one  with  all  the 
blessings  of  an  ingenious  and  well-cultivated  mind,  and 
raising  another  but  one  degree  above  idiocy  ?  What 
should  we  say  to  his  sending  the  Gospel  to  one  nation 
and  not  to  another,  leaving  millions  to  perish  in  the  dark- 
ness of  pagan  idolatry,  while  the  light  of  salvation  shines 
upon  others  ?  But  we  forbear :  God  claims  it  as  his 
prerogative  to  do  what  he  will  with  his  own  ;  and 
whether  men  contend  or  submit,  he  will  exercise  this 
prerogative.  Nothing,  surely,  is  more  entirely  his  own 
than  the  gifts  and  callings  of  his  grace.  These  he  will 
bestow  when  and  where  he  pleases,  and  often  upon  the 
most  unworthy.  It  was  in  view  of  this  sovereign  pre- 
rogative that  Jesus  once  said,  "  I  thank  thee  Father,  Lord 
of  heaven  and  earth,  that  thou  hast  hid  these  things,"  &c. 

But  how  appalling,  says  one,  are  these  expressions ; 
and  how  discouraging  the  truth  they  seem  to  convey. 

Fourth.  Would  it  not  be  better  to  conceal  this  sove- 
reign and  discriminating  grace  of  God,  admitting  that  it 
is  found  in  the  Bible,  seeing  many  are  offended  with  it, 
and  not  a  few  who  abuse  it,  perhaps,  to  their  own  de- 
struction ? 

I  have  not  time  to  make  a  full  reply  to  this  objection. 
But  it  is  enough  to  say,  are  we  wiser  than  God  ?  He 
has  proclaimed  his  discriminating  grace  by  the  mouth  of 
Apostles  and  Prophets,  nay,  by  the  mouth  of  his  own 
dear  Son.  He  has  proclaimed  it  in  his  providence  for 
the  space  of  six  thousand  years,  and  is  every  day  pro- 
claiming it  in  the  events  before  our  eyes.  The  different 
moral  conditions  of  those  whom  we  see  around  us,  are  a 
solemn  and  expressive  testimony  of  God  to  this  truth. 
Who  are  we  then,  brethren,  that  we  should  withstand 
God  ?  As  for  me,  I  dare  not — for  my  own  soul's  sake— 


ON    EFFECTUAL    CALLING.       %  379 

nor  for  the  sake  of  your  souls.  Let  us,  then,  be  found 
faithful  in  receiving  and  maintaining  the  truths  which  his 
wisdom  and  goodness  have  revealed,  and  let  us  pray 
with  renewed  fervor  for  his  Holy  Spirit  to  make  them 
effectual  to  our  salvation,  and  the  salvation  of  others. 


LECTUBE    XVII. 


ON   JUSTIFICATION 


WHAT   IS   JUSTIFICATION1? 

THE  answer  given  in  the  Shorter  Catechism  is,  "  Jus- 
tification is  an  act  of  God's  free  grace,  wherein  he  par- 
doneth  all  our  sins,  and  accepteth  us  as  righteous  in  his 
sight  only  for  the  righteousness  of  Christ  imputed  to  us 
and  received  by  faith  alone."  In  the  Confession  of  Faith, 
Chapter  XI.,  this  doctrine  is  expressed  more  fully  thus : 
"Those  whom  God  effectually  calleth  he  also  freely 
justifieth — not  by  infusing  righteousness  into  them/'  (an 
opinion  of  the  Church  of  Rome,)  "  but  by  pardoning  their 
sins,  and  by  accounting  and  accepting  their  persons  as 
righteous,  not  for  anything  wrought  in  them  or  done  by 
them,  but  for  Christ's  sake  alone ;  not  by  imputing  faith 
itself,  the  act  of  believing,  or  any  other  evangelical  obe- 
dience, to  them,  as  their  righteousness,  but  by  imparting 
the  obedience  and  satisfaction  of  Christ  unto  them,  they 
receiving  and  resting  on  him  and  his  righteousness  by 
faith ;  which  faith  they  have  not  of  themselves,  it  is  the 
gift  of  God."  This  faith,  however,  which  is  the  alone 
instrument  of  justification,  is  declared  "  not  to  be  alone 
in  the  person  justified,  but  is  ever  accompanied  with  all 
other  saving  graces,  and  is  no  dead  faith,  but  worketh 
by  love."  With  this  statement  agree  the  Articles  of  the 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 


381 


Church  of  England.  "  We  are  accounted  righteous  be- 
fore God/'  says  their  eleventh  Article,  "  only  for  the 
merits  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ  by  faith, 
and  not  for  our  own  works  or  deservings.  Wherefore, 
that  we  are  justified  by  faith  only,  is  a  most  wholesome 
doctrine  and  very  full  of  comfort."  We  present  these 
ancient  symbols,  not  so  much  as  a  matter  of  authority, 
though  well  entitled  to  regard,  as  to  give  a  clear  and 
concise  view  of  the  subject,  and  the  high  importance 
attached  to  it  by  the  great  and  good  in  other  days.  I 
know  of  no  errors  which  at  different  periods  have  troubled 
the  Church  either  more  subtle  or  more  poisonous  than 
those  which  relate  to  the  doctrine  of  justification.  All 
the  powers  of  human  ingenuity  have  been  set  to  work 
to  devise  some  scheme  of  acceptance  with  God  different 
from  that  which  is  revealed  in  the  Bible.  For  many 
hundred  years  antecedent  to  the  Reformation,  men  were 
taught  to  trust  to  pilgrimages  and  penances — to  alms- 
giving— to  the  prayers  of  saints  and  the  senseless  homage 
paid  to  their  relics — to  an  ascetic  and  monastic  life — to 
everything,  in  short,  but  to  the  foundation  which  God 
has  laid  in  Zion,  the  meritorious  obedience  and  sacrifice 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  On  no  point,  therefore,  did 
the  great  Reformers  labor  more  than  to  recover  and 
establish  the  true  doctrine  of  justification  by  the  imputed 
righteousness  of  the  Redeemer.  This  they  considered 
as  so  vital  to  the  Gospel  scheme,  that  Christianity  with- 
out it  was  only  a  smoother  way  to  the  gates  of  perdition. 
"  On  this  article  alone,"  said  the  famous  Martin  Luther, 
"  stands  or  falls  the  Church."  Happy  would  it  have 
been  for  the  Protestant  world,  had  this  doctrine  been 
left  undisturbed  upon  the  foundation  on  which  it  was 
placed  by  the  Reformers — a  foundation  plainly  revealed 
in  the  Bible,  and  full  of  hope  and  consolation.  But 
human  pride,  which  loves  to  plume  itself  with  its  own 
imaginary  merits,  could  not  brook  a  doctrine  which  strips 


382  ON    JUSTIFICATION. 

man  so  entirely  of  all  ideas  of  personal  worthiness,  and 
makes  his  salvation  from  first  to  last  a  matter  of  mere 
grace — the  deliverance  of  a  culprit  from  justly-deserved 
punishment,  while  all  the  good  he  receives  is  bestowed 
wholly  out  of  regard  to  the  righteousness  of  another. 
The   consequence   has  been,  men  have  perverted  this 
doctrine.     They  have  taken  the  crown  from  the  head  of 
Christ,  and  placed  it  upon  that  of  a  guilty  rebel.     In- 
stead of  laying  down  the  righteousness  of  the  Saviour  as 
the  only  meritorious  ground  of  justification  before  God, 
they  have  brought  in  the  system  of  human   contrition 
and  human  endeavor  as  making  a  part,  and  a  prominent 
part,  of  that  righteousness,  on  account  of  which  a  sinner 
is  to  hope  for  the  absolving  sentence  and  final  approba- 
tion of  his  Judge.     And  I  lament  to  state  that  this  spu- 
rious notion  of  justification  is  to  be  found  not  only  in 
churches  which  are  professedly  Arminian,  and  where  the 
sentiment  is  openly  avowed  and  defended,  but  in  other 
churches  also.     The  truth  is,  our  fallen  nature  loves  that 
system  which  allows  to  it  a  part  of  the  glory  of  our  sal- 
vation ;  while  it  feels  a  repugnance  to  everything  where- 
by God  is  exalted  and  man  is  laid  low.     Hence  it  comes 
to  pass  that,  in  every  country  where  the  Gospel  has  been 
preached,  a  disposition  has  been  shown  to  reject  the 
righteousness  which  is  of  God,  and  to  seek  justification 
as  it  were  by  the  works  of  the  law.     We  know  it  was  so 
with  the  great  body  of  the  Jews  in  the  time  of  Christ 
and  his  Apostles.     We  know  it  was  so  with  many  in 
the  early  Christian  churches,  which  led  St.  Paul  to  op- 
pose this  error  so  pointedly  and  laboriously  in  his  epis- 
tles to  the  churches  of  Rome   and  Galatia.     So  funda- 
mental indeed  did  he  consider  this  error,  that  he  declared 
those  who  received  and  propagated  it  as  accursed,  be- 
cause they  subverted  the  Gospel  of  Christ.     In  the  re- 
marks which  I  shall  submit  on  this  subject,  I  propose  to 
consider : 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 

First.  What  is  implied  in  our  being  justified  before 
God. 

Second.   What  that  righteousness  is,  on  account   of 
which  God  justifies  us. 

Third.  What  is  intended  by  the  imputation  of  this 
righteousness. 

Fourth.  The  nature  of  a  justifying  faith  and  its  influ- 
ence in  the  matter  of  justification. 

Fifth.  Wherein  it  appears  that  we  are  justified  freely 
by  God's  grace. 

First.  What  is  implied  in  our  being  justified  before 
God.  To  justify  a  man  in  the  sense  in  which  the  term 
is  often  used,  both  in  the  Scriptures  and  in  common  life, 
is  to  vindicate  his  innocence  in  a  matter  where  he  has 
been  supposed  guilty.  Thus  Job  says,  "  If  I  justify 
myself,  mine  own  mouth  shall  condemn  me  ;"  and  again, 
when  speaking  to  his  friends,  "  God  forbid  that  I  should 
justify  you,"  that  is,  that  I  should  vindicate  your  con- 
duct, or  sustain  your  cause.  We  read  of  Wisdom's 
being  justified  of  her  children,  and  of  all  the  people's 
justifying  God.  Here,  to  justify,  is  simply  to  declare 
one  innocent,  or  to  vindicate  him  from  some  supposed 
impeachment. 

To  justify,  in  the  language  of  human  judicatories,  is 
to  acquit  the  accused  of  the  crime  alleged,  and  to  declare 
him  rectus  or  just  in  the  eye  of  the  law.  This  is  a  fre- 
quent use  of  the  term  in  the  Bible,  and  perhaps  may  be 
regarded  as  its  original  and  primary  use.  But  in  neither 
of  these  senses  can  it  be  said  that  God  justifies  the  sinner 
when  he  pardons  and  restores  him  to  favor.  He  surely 
does  not  vindicate  the  sinner's  innocence,  or  declare  him 
not  guilty  of  the  offences  he  stands  charged  with  in  the 
eye  of  the  law.  This  could  not  be  done  consistently 
with  the  truth  of  facts.  These  offences  exist,  and  it  will 
remain  eternally  true  that  they  exist ;  nor  can  there  a 
time  come  in  which  it  will  not  be  equally  true  that  the 


384  ON    JUSTIFICATION. 

sinner  who  committed  them  deserves  to  be  punished. 
He  may  be  forgiven,  and  his  liability  to  punishment  re- 
moved ;  but  his  desert  of  punishment  is  as  indelible  as 
his  being,  and  can  no  more  be  destroyed,  than  the  fact 
of  his  transgression.  It  cannot  be  supposed,  therefore, 
that  God,  whose  judgment  is  according  to  truth,  will 
either  judge  or  declare  the  sinner  to  be  righteous,  viewed 
as  a  moral  agent,  and  as  he  stands  related  to  the  Divine 
law  ;  for  he  will  not  judge  or  declare  him  to  be  what  he 
is  not.  He  may  treat  him  as  though  he  were  righteous, 
by  not  reckoning  sin  to  his  account,  or  rather  by  not 
punishing  him  for  his  sin,  and  by  bestowing  upon  him 
important  benefits.  But  the  state  of  facts  does  not 
admit  of  the  sinner's  being  declared  righteous  in  the  eye 
of  the  law,  making  that  the  rule  of  judgment,  since,  by 
that  rule,  he  is  most  certainly  and  justly  condemned.  I 
know  it  has  been  supposed,  that  though  the  law  condemns 
him,  in  his  own  personal  character,  it  justifies  him  in  the 
character  of  a  believer,  and  as  he  stands  related  to  Christ, 
who  is  his  head.  But  our  doctrine  is,  that  the  law  nei- 
ther knows  nor  can  know  him  in  any  other  character 
than  his  own.  It  considers  him  merely  as  a  subject  of 
God's  moral  government,  and  while  it  ascertains  his 
duties  and  relations,  it  determines  his  merit  or  demerit. 
The  law,  strictly  speaking,  knows  nothing  of  Christ,  and 
contains  no  provision  for  justifying  or  condemning  men, 
but  that  which  is  found  in  its  precepts  and  penalties.  If 
men  were  to  be  justified  by  the  law,  as  would  have  been 
the  case  had  not  the  terms  of  the  first  covenant  been 
broken,  it  must  be  by  the  deeds  of  the  law ;  and  their 
justification  would  be  the  sentence  of  the  supreme  Judge, 
declaring  them  to  be  righteous  according  to  the  law. 
This,  we  admit,  would  be  a  legal  and  forensic  transac- 
tion. But  the  justification  proposed  in  the  Gospel,  is 
different  from  this.  Here,  it  is  not  justifying  the  right- 
eous whom  the  law  approves,  but  the  ungodly  whom  the 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 


385 


law  condemns.  God,  in  justifying  men,  therefore,  in 
this  way,  does  not  proceed  according  to  law,  but  as  a 
sovereign  Judge,  acts  above  law  in  the  same  manner  as 
the  supreme  magistrate  acts  above  law,  when  he  pardons 
a  man  condemned  by  the  criminal  laws  of  his  country. 
The  law  is  not  overlooked  in  this  case,  for  then  no  pardon 
could  be  needed  or  dispensed.  But  the  penalty  of  the  law 
is  set  aside,  as  an  act  of  mercy,  vouchsafed  by  the  power 
or  authority  of  the  supreme  executive.  Here,  every  one 
can  see  that  the  transgressor  is  neither  considered  nor 
declared  to  be  righteous ;  so  far  from  it,  that  his  guilt  is 
acknowledged  in  the  very  act  of  pardon.  What  is  done 
is  simply  to  reverse  the  sentence  of  condemnation,  or,  if 
you  please,  to  remit  the  punishment,  and  restore  the 
criminal  to  favor. 

Thus  it  is,  substantially,  when  God  pardons  and  justi- 
fies the  sinner.  He  does  not  consider  or  declare  him 
righteous  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  but  he  treats  him,  in 
two  important  respects,  as  if  he  were ;  he  acquits  him 
from  condemnation,  and  entitles  him  to  life. 

We  do  not  pretend  that  the  cases  are  precisely  paral- 
lel ;  but  their  agreement  is  sufficiently  obvious  in  the 
point  to  be  illustrated.  In  both  cases,  the  guilty  escape 
punishment,  not  by  the  ordinary  forms  of  judicial  process, 
not  by  being  considered  or  declared  righteous,  but  by 
being  forgiven,  in  a  way  consistent  with  the  public  good, 
and  by  an  authority  competent  to  dispense  this  mercy. 

These  remarks  are  intended  to  show  that  Gospel  justi- 
fication is  not  the  same  as  legal  justification — while  yet 
such  a  resemblance  exists  between  them  as  to  warrant 
the  use  of  a  legal  or  forensic  term.  By  overlooking  this 
circumstance,  and  by  supposing  that  the  justification  un- 
der the  Gospel  is  to  be  explained  solely  by  a  reference 
to  human  tribunals,  many  have  made  the  whole  business 
of  our  pardon  and  acceptance  with  God  a  mere  legal 
process. 

25 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 

This,  we  conceive,  is  in  no  degree  warranted  by  the 
language  of  the  Bible.  There  we  are  not  said  to  be 
justified  by  the  law,  nor  according  to  the  law,  but  to  be 
justified  by  faith  without  the  deeds  of  the  law ;  while 
the  righteousness  of  God  therein  is  said  to  be  manifested 
without  the  law,  being  witnessed  by  the  law  and  the 
prophets.  But,  though  not  justified  by  the  law,  still  it 
is  important  to  remark  that  the  law  is  not  overlpoked  in 
the  matter  of  our  justification.  It  did  not  become  the 
holiness  and  justice  of  the  Supreme  Lawgiver  to  justify 
the  sinner  till  the  violated  law  had  been  magnified  and 
made  honorable,  both  in  its  precept  and  penalty.  This 
was  done  by  Christ,  when  he  obeyed  and  suffered  in  our 
stead ;  and  this  being  done,  the  door  was  opened  to  ex- 
tend two  benefits  to  the  believing  sinner — to  wit,  par- 
don and  eternal  life — both  of  which  are  comprehended 
in  the  act  of  justification. 

That  justification  is  thus  extensive,  including  the  bene- 
fits now  mentioned,  may  be  seen  from  the  following  pas- 
sages :  "  Being  justified  by  faith,  we  have  peace  with 
God  through  our  Lord  Jesus   Christ."     To  have  peace 
with  God  is  more  than  to  be  delivered  from  wrath.     It 
implies  a  state  of  favor  and  acceptance,  which  involves 
in  it  the  blessing  of  eternal  life  :  and  therefore  the  Apos- 
tle adds,  in  the  following  verse  :  "  By  whom  also  "  that 
is,  by  Christ,  "  we  have  access  unto  this  grace,  wherein 
we  stand  and  rejoice  in  the  hope  of  the  glory  of  God." 
And  again :  "  But  God  commendeth  his  love  towards  us, 
that  while  we  were  yet  sinners  Christ  died  for  us." 
"  Much  more  then  being  justified  by  his  blood,  we  shall 
be  saved  from  wrath  through  him.     For  if,  when  we 
were  enemies  we  were  reconciled  to  God  by  the  death 
of  his  Son,  much  more,  being  reconciled,  we  shall  be 
saved  by  his  life."     That  this  salvation  by  Christ's  life 
includes  in  it  the  immortal  happiness  of  the  soul,  as  the 
fruit  of  justification,  seems  perfectly  certain  from  the  fol- 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 


387 


lowing  declaration  in  the  same  chapter  :  "  For  the  judg- 
ment was  by  one  to  condemnation ;  but  the  free  gift  is 
of  many  offences  unto  justification.  For  if,  by  one  man's 
offence  death  reigned  by  one,  much  more  they  which 
receive  abundance  of  grace,  and  of  the  gift  of  right- 
eousness, shall  reign  in  life  by  one,  Jesus  Christ." 

Remission  of  sins  and  an  inheritance  among  them  that 
are  sanctified,  are  mentioned  together,  as  blessings  joint- 
ly obtained  by  faith  in  the  Redeemer ;  and  Christ  speaks 
of  passing  from  death  unto  life  as  the  fruit  of  faith,  and 
which  he  opposes  to  a  state  of  condemnation  :  "  Verily, 
I  say  unto  you,  he  that  heareth  my  word  and  believeth 
on  him  that  sent  me,  hath  everlasting  life,  and  shall  not 
come  into  condemnation,  but  is  passed  from  death  unto 
life."  Which  leads  me  to  a  single  remark  more  on  the 
nature  of  justification — to  wit :  that  it  is  absolute,  and 
not  conditional,  as  some  have  suggested.  By  which  I 
mean,  that  justification  once  passed  upon  the  sinner  is 
passed  forever.  The  eternal  Judge,  when  he  absolves 
him  and  grants  him  a  title  to  life,  does  not  do  it  hypo- 
thetically — suspending  the  favor  or  the  continuance  of 
it,  upon  conditions  yet  to  be  performed,  and  which  are  in 
themselves  uncertain.  When  he  forgives  the  penitent 
and  believing,  it  is  with  a  promise  that  he  will  remem- 
ber their  sins  and  iniquities  no  more  ;  when  he  bestows 
on  them  the  gift  of  righteousness  and  the  consequent 
title  to  eternal  life,  he  neither  repents  of  it  nor  takes  it 
back  again.  But  the  consoling  language  he  holds  to 
each  of  them  is :  "  I  will  be  thy  God,  and  thou  shalt  be 
my  son." 

The  perpetuity  of  this  privilege  is  clearly  implied 
in  the  promises,  "  he  that  believeth  shall  be  saved ;" 
"  and  he  that  believeth,  hath  everlasting  life,  and  shall 
not  come  into  condemnation."  For  where  would  the 
truth  of  such  promises  be,  if  eternal  life  were  not  infalli- 
bly connected  with  the  very  first  act  of  faith.  But  the 


388 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 


Scriptures  are  everywhere  exceedingly  explicit  on  this 
subject.  They  declare  "  that  there  is  no  condemnation 
to  them  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus/5  whose  character  it  is 
"to  walk  not  after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  Spirit."  That 
those  whom  God  predestinates  to  be  conformed  to  the 
image  of  his  Son,  he  calls ;  and  whom  he  calls  he  justi- 
fies, and  whom  he  justifies,  them  also  he  glorifies.  And 
in  the  assurance  that  all  who  receive  justification  will 
continue  in  this  state,  the  Apostle  puts  this  challenge : 
"It  is  God  that  justifieth  ;  who  is  he  that  condemneth  ? 
It  is  Christ  that  died,  yea  rather,  that  is  risen  again,  who 
is  even  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  who  also  maketh  inter- 
cession for  us."  But  wrhat  if  these  justified  persons  were 
to  cease  to  believe  and  to  obey  the  Gospel  ?  Would  not 
the  sentence  of  condemnation  return,  and  they  fall  under 
the  weight  of  God's  vengeance  ?  Undoubtedly.  But 
this  is  an  event  which  can  never  happen.  God  hath  said 
of  all  those  with  whom  he  makes  his  new  and  everlast- 
ing covenant,  "  I  will  put  my  law  in  their  inward  parts, 
and  write  it  in  their  hearts,  and  I  will  be  their  God  and 
they  shall  be  my  people ;"  and  again,  "  I  will  not  turn 
away  from  them  to  do  them  good,  but  I  will  put  my  fear 
in  their  hearts,  and  they  shall  not  depart  from  me." 
"  For  I  will  be  merciful  to  their  unrighteousness,  and 
their  sins  and  iniquities  will  I  remember  no  more." 
Depart  they  would,  if  left  to  themselves ;  but  they  are 
kept  by  the  power  of  God  "  through  faith  unto  salvation, 
ready  to  be  revealed  in  the  last  time."  We  hold  that 
they,  and  they  only,  who  endure  unto  the  end,  will  be 
saved ;  but  we  maintain  that  all  true  believers  will  thus 
endure,  because  God,  that  cannot  lie,  hath  said  it,  and 
because  we  doubt  neither  his  power  nor  his  mercy. 
Jesus,  who  knows  our  weakness,  and  who  through  that 
weakness  perfects  his  own  strength,  has  declared,  "  My 
sheep  hear  my  voice,  and  I  know  them,  and  they  follow 
me :  and  I  give  unto  them  eternal  life,  and  they  shall 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 

never  perish,  neither  shall  any  pluck  them  out  of  my 
hand."  "My  father  which  gave  them  me  is  greater 
than  all :  and  none  is  able  to  pluck  them  out  of  my 
father's  hand."  Nothing  can  be  more  decisive.  But 
though  none  can  pluck  them  out  of  God's  hand,  may 
they  not  fall,  or  thrust  themselves  out  ?  No,  my  brethren. 
Because  it  is  plain,  if  they  might  fall,  or  thrust  themselves 
out,  others  might  be  the  instruments  of  their  fall.  For 
there  is  no  sin  which  we  do  or  can  commit,  to  which 
others  may  not  tempt  us.  But  besides,  whether  of  them- 
selves alone  or  through  the  agency  of  others,  were  they 
to  fall  out  of  Christ's  hands,  they  would  perish,  which  is 
contrary  to  our  Lord's  assertion  in  the  passage  that  they 
shall  never  perish. 

Relying,  then,  on  the  covenanted  security  which  God 
has  given  us  on  this  point,  may  we  not  say  with  the 
Apostle,  "  Who  shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ  ? 
shall  tribulation,  or  distress,  or  persecution,  or  famine,  or 
nakedness,  or  peril,  or  sword  ?  Nay,  in  all  these  things 
we  are  more  than  conquerors ;"  through  whom  ?  our- 
selves or  our  fellow-Christians  ?  No,  "  through  him  that 
loved  us,"  and  called  us  into  this  grace  as  the  fruit  of 
this  love.  "For  I  am  persuaded  that  neither  death,  nor 
life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things 
present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor  heighth,  nor  depth,  nor 
any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from 
the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 

Having  thus  explained  the  nature  of  justification  as  it 
is,  an  act  of  God  absolving  the  sinner  from  the  sins  or 
from  the  punishment  due  to  them,  and  bestowing  upon 
him  real  and  unfailing  title  to  eternal  life,  I  proceed, 
in  the 

Second  place,  to  consider  what  that  righteousness  is, 
on  account  of  which  God  justifies  us.  Be  assured, 
brethren,  God  will  not  justify  us  without  a  righteous- 
ness, nor  without  a  righteousness  which  does  honor  to  his 


390 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 


law,  and  sets  its  authority  high  in  the  sight  of  the  universe ; 
and  it  is,  perhaps,  for  this  reason  chiefly,  that  our  pardon 
and  acceptance  with  him  takes  the  name  of  justification. 
But  the  question  here  is,  what  is  that  righteousness  ? 
Most  certainly,  it  cannot  be  our  own  perfect  personal 
righteousness,  according  to  the  law.  First,  because  we 
have  no  such  righteousness,  and  secondly,  because  this 
is  not  the  righteousness  supposed  or  demanded  in  the 
justification  of  sinners,  the  law  not  being  made  the  direct 
rule  of  judgment  in  the  case  :  nor  is  it  the  righteousness 
of  faith  considered  as  a  moral  virtue.  We  read,  indeed, 
of  the  righteousness  of  faith.  We  read  that  "  Abraham 
believed  God,  and  it  was  accounted  unto  him  for  righteous- 
ness." And  again  :  "  That  to  him  that  worketh  not,  but 
believeth  on  him  that  justifieth  the  ungodly,  his  faith  is 
counted  unto  him  for  righteousness."  But  still,  we  are 
not  to  suppose  that  faith  and  the  fruits  of  it  are,  by  the 
Gospel,  substituted  for  a  perfect  legal  righteousness. 
This,  men  are  apt  to  suppose ;  they  are  prone  to  imagine, 
that  as  under  the  first  covenant  or  the  law  of  works,  men 
were  to  be  justified  by  a  sinless  obedience,  so  under  the 
new  covenant  or  the  Gospel  dispensation,  they  are  to  be 
justified  by  faith,  and  the  sincere  though  imperfect  obe- 
dience which  attends  it,  making  faith  and  its  moral  fruits 
to  hold  the  same  place  under  the  Gospel  that  perfect 
obedience  held  under  the  law. 

There  are  two  important  reasons  why  this  view  cannot 
be  admitted.  One  is,  that  the  righteousness  which  God 
regards  as  the  ground  of  our  justification,  is  declared  to  be 
a  righteousness  without  works,  which  would  not  be  true,  if 
faith,  as  a  moral  virtue,  were  accepted  as  our  righteousness ; 
or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  if  our  imperfect  obedience  were 
substituted  in  the  room  of  a  perfect ;  for  then,  obedience, 
to  a  certain  extent,  would  still  be  our  righteousness,  and 
the  formal  cause  of  our  justification.  It  could  not  then 
be  said,  that  "  to  him  that  worketh  not  is  the  reward 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 


391 


reckoned,  and  righteousness  imputed."  Because,  here 
is  a  work,  though  an  imperfect  work,  laid  as  the  founda- 
tion of  our  acceptance  with  God. 

But  a  more  obvious  and  important  reason  why  we  can- 
not admit  that  faith — considered  as  a  moral  virtue,  or  as 
an  act  of  obedience — is  the  righteousness  which  God  im- 
putes to  men  for  their  justification,  is,  that  the  Scriptures 
distinctly  speak  of  another  righteousness  as  the  founda- 
tion of  this  mercy ;  and  it  would  be  absurd  to  suppose 
that  they  speak  of  two. 

They  declare  that  Christ's  righteousness  is  the  meri- 
torious ground  of  a  sinner's  pardon  and  acceptance  with 
God.  Thus  Paul,  in  the  fifth  of  Romans  :  "  For  if  by  one 
man's  offence  death  reigned  by  one,  much  more  they 
which  receive  abundance  of  grace  and  the  gift  of  right- 
eousness, shall  reign  in  life  by  one,  Jesus  Christ." 
"  Therefore,  as  by  the  offence  of  one,  judgment  came 
upon  all  men  to  condemnation ;  even  so,  by  the  righteous- 
ness of  one,  the  free  gift  came  upon  all  men  unto  justifi- 
cation of  life.  For  as  by  one  man's  disobedience  many 
were  made  sinners,  so  by  the  obedience  of  one,  many 
shall  be  made  righteous ;  that  as  sin  hath  reigned  unto 
death,  even  so  might  grace  reign  through  righteousness 
unto  eternal  life,  by  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord."  This  pas- 
sage alone  proves  that  Christ's  righteousness,  and  that 
only,  is  the  true  and  proper  ground  of  a  sinner's  justifi- 
cation before  God.  But  the  Bible  holds  a  similar  lan- 
guage in  other  places.  Christ  is  called  by  the  Prophets, 
God's  righteous  branch  which  he  was  to  raise  up  unto 
the  house  of  David;  God's  righteous  servant,  by  the 
knowledge  of  whom  many  should  be  justified,  and  the 
Lord,  our  righteousness.  Daniel  speaks  of  him  as  one 
who  was  to  finish  transgression,  and  make  an  end  of 
sins ;  one  who,  having  made  reconciliation  for  iniquity, 
should  bring  in  everlasting  righteousness.  What  can 
this  righteousness  be,  but  the  immediate  fruit  of  his  obe- 


392 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 


dience  and  death,  when  in  our  nature  he  fulfilled  the 
precept  and  sustained  the  awful  penalty  of  the  Divine 
law  ?  All  that  he  did  and  suffered  upon  earth  was  at 
the  command  of  the  Father,  and  might,  therefore,  well 
take  the  name  of  righteousness.  And  we  know,  from  the 
testimony  of  an  Apostle,  that  it  was  by  his  doing  God's 
will  that  a  door  was  opened  for  being  purged  from  our 
offences,  and  for  receiving  the  promise  of  an  eternal 
inheritance. 

This  righteousness  of  Christ  is  the  righteousness  of  the 
Mediator,  and  embraces  in  it  two  things  :  satisfaction  to 
the  penalty,  and  obedience  to  the  precept  of  the  Divine 
law;  or,  to  use  the  words  of  a  great  divine,  It  is  both  a 
negative  and  positive  righteousness.  It  provides  against 
the  curse  incurred  by  transgression,  and  it  equally  pro- 
vides for  the  gift  of  eternal  life.  As  one  great  whole,  it 
lays  a  foundation  for  God  to  wipe  away  the  remem- 
brance of  our  sins,  and  to  make  us  joint  heirs  with  his 
Son  of  a  crown  of  righteousness  and  glo.ry  which  fadeth 
not  away.  This  is  the  righteousness  so  often  called  the 
righteousness  of  God  in  the  New  Testament,  and  which 
is  so  called  because  it  is  eminently  of  God's  providing, 
and  a  righteousness  which  he  himself  applies  in  the  jus- 
tification of  sinners.  This  is  the  righteousness  which  is 
without  the  law,  being  witnessed  by  the  law  and  the 
Prophets ;  the  righteousness  which  is  by  faith  of  Jesus 
Christ,  unto  all,  and  upon  all  them  that  believe,  whether 
they  be  Jews  or  Gentiles ;  the  righteousness  which  Paul 
wished  to  possess,  "  When  he  desired  to  be  found  in 
Christ,  not  having  his  own  righteousness  which  is  of  the 
law,  but  the  righteousness  which  is  through  the  faith  of 
Christ,  even  the  righteousness  which  is  of  God  by  faith." 
And  because  this  righteousness  magnifies  the  law,  and 
opens  the  way  for  God  to  be  just,  (just  to  his  own  honor 
and  to  the  interest  of  his  government,)  and  yet  the  jus- 
tifier  of  him  that  believeth  in  Jesus,  Christ  is  said  to  be 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 


393 


the  end  of  the  law  for  righteousness  to  every  one  that 
believeth.  Who  can  doubt,  then,  whether  Christ's  right- 
eousness alone  is  the  true  and  proper  ground  of  a  sin- 
ner's justification  before  God. 

But  I  hear  it  said,  Was  not  Abraham  justified  by  faith  ? 
and  is  not  his  faith  said  to  be  imputed  to  him  for  right- 
eousness ?  True  :  but  how  did  his  faith  justify  him  ? 
Not  on  the  ground  of  its  being  a  righteousness  which 
was  accepted  in  the  room  of  a  perfect  legal  righteous- 
ness •  but  as  it  united  him  to  Christ,  and  thus  brought 
him  under  the  influence  of  his  righteousness,  as  we  shall 
have  occasion  to  show  in  a  subsequent  part  of  this  sub- 
ject. He  was  not  justified  without  faith,  nor  without  a 
living,  operative  faith.  But  neither  his  faith  nor  his 
works  were  his  justifying  righteousness — that  on  account 
of  which  he  was  acquitted  from  punishment  and  entitled 
to  reward.  Had  this  been  the  case,  it  could  not  have 
been  said,  "  that  he  had  not  whereof  to  glory."  There 
would,  at  least,  have  been  some  cause  for  his  glorying 
before  men,  though  not  before  God,  if  his  faith  or  obe- 
dience had  been  made  the  true  or  formal  ground  of  his 
acceptance.  He  might  have  pleaded  his  own  moral  wor- 
thiness as  the  cause  of  that  distinction  which  God  made 
between  him  and  others ;  and  it  might  be  said  of  him 
that  he  both  sought  and  obtained  righteousness  by  his 
obedience,  or  as  it  were  by  the  works  of  the  law.  But 
this  is  what  the  Apostle  expressly  declares  to  be  the 
soul-destroying  mistake  of  the  Jews.  They  were  not  so 
blind  as  to  suppose  that  no  man  could  be  justified  before 
God,  but  upon  the  footing  of  a  perfect  personal  right- 
eousness. They  knew  that  they  were  sinners,  and 
therefore  they  offered  the  sacrifices  of  atonement  which 
the  law  prescribed.  But  their  error  was  in  supposing 
that  if  they  were  in  the  main  strict  and  zealous  in  the 
discharge  of  moral  and  ceremonial  duties,  this  would 
stand  for  their  righteousness,  and  that  on  account  of  it 


394  ON    JUSTIFICATION. 

God  would  overlook  their  failures  and  bestow  upon  them 
the  reward  of  eternal  life.     It  is  to  this  precise  fact  that 
the  Apostle  directs  our  attention  in  the  closing  part  of 
the  ninth  chapter  of  his  epistle  to  the  Romans,  and  in  the 
beginning  of  the  tenth :  "  What  shall  we   say  then  ? 
That  the  Gentiles,  which  followed  not  £fter  the  law  of 
righteousness,  have  attained  to  righteousness,  even  the 
righteousness  which  is  of  faith ;  but  Israel,  which  fol- 
lowed after  the  law  of  righteousness,  hath  not  attained 
to   the  law  of  righteousness.      Wherefore  ?      Because 
they  sought  it  not  by  faith,  but  as  it  were  by  the  works 
of  the  law."     Mark   the   expression :    "  they  sought  it 
not  by  faith,  but  as  it  were  by  the  works  of  the   law." 
He  does  not  say  by  the  works  of  the  law  simply,  as  if 
they  were   striving  after  a  perfect  legal  righteousness. 
They  knew  as  well  as  we  do,  that  such  a  righteousness 
was  unattainable.     Still  they  made   a  righteousness  of 
their  own  works,  as  thousands  do  at  the  present  time, 
instead  of  looking  solely  to  the   righteousness  of  God's 
providing — the  righteousness  of  the  Redeemer.     "  For 
they  stumbled,"  says  the  Apostle,  "  at  that  stumbling 
stone,  [meaning  Christ,]  as  it  is  written  :  Behold  I  lay  in 
Zion  a  stumbling  stone  and  a  rock  of  offence,  and  who- 
soever believeth  on  him  shall  not  be  ashamed."     None 
could  be  more  zealous  and  painstaking  in  religion  than 
they,  but  their  zeal,  says  the  Apostle,  is  not  according  to 
knowledge ;  "  For  they,  being  ignorant  of  God's  right- 
eousness, and  going  about  to  establish  their  own  right- 
eousness, have  not  submitted  themselves  unto  the  right- 
eousness of  God."     They  did  not  submit  themselves  to 
God's  righteousness  by  submitting  to  Christ,  and  receiv- 
ing him  in  his  mediatorial  character,  as  the  end  of  the 
law  for  righteousness  to  every  one  that  believeth.     Their 
whole   reliance   was  upon  their  own  good  endeavors. 
They   knew   no    other   righteousness   and    sought    no 
other.    Here  they  stumbled  and  fell ;  and  here  have  fall- 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 


395 


en  thousands  with  the  Word  of  Christ  in  their  hands. 
From  the  self-righteous  Pharisee  to  the  man  who  is  now 
doing  as  well  as  he  can,  trusting  in  God's  mercy  for  the 
rest,  the  grand  error  has  been  to  overlook  the  perfect 
righteousness  of  the  Redeemer,  as  the  only  justifying 
righteousness  of  the  sinner.  But  surely  Paul  did  not 
overlook  it,  when  speaking  of  God's  justifying  Abraham 
by  faith,  in  opposition  to  works  ;  surely  he  did  not  mean 
to  teach  that  though  Abraham  was  not  justified  by  a 
perfect  legal  righteousness,  he  was  nevertheless  justified 
by  an  imperfect  one,  as  the  Jews  sought  to  be  ;  or,  which 
is  the  same  thing,  that  he  was  justified  "  as  it  were  by 
the  works  of  the  law." 

I  must  not  longer  trespass  ou  your  patience,  and  there- 
fore I  reserve  the  remainder  of  this  subject  for  a  future 
opportunity.  Let  me  not  conclude,  however,  until  I 
have  lifted  up  a  warning  voice  against  a  spirit  of  self-right- 
eousness. Make  a  Christ  of  nothing  but  Christ  himself. 
There  is  much  danger  of  doing  this.  Your  faith  in  him 
must  be  direct,  and  your  dependence  on  him  exclusive 
and  entire. 


LECTURE    XVIII. 


ON  JUSTIFICATION. 


WHAT    IS    JUSTIFICATION  1 

IN  answering  this  question  on  a  former  occasion,  you 
will  recollect  that  I  proposed  the  five  following  inquiries : 

First.  What  is  implied  in  our  being  justified  before 
God? 

Second.  What  is  the  righteousness  on  account  of  which 
God  justifies  us  ? 

Third.  What  is  intended  by  the  imputation  of  this 
righteousness  ? 

Fourth.  What  is  the  nature  of  that  faith  which  is 
concerned  in  our  justification,  and  how  is  it  concerned  ? 

Fifth.  And  lastly,  wherein  does  it  appear  that  we  are 
justified  freely  by  the  grace  of  God  ? 

The  first  two  of  these  inquiries  have  already  been 
considered.  In  attending  to  the  first,  we  remarked  that 
to  justify  a  man  in  common  life,  is  to  vindicate  his  inno- 
cence against  any  imagined  or  supposed  impeachment ; 
but  that  in  judicial  proceedings  the  term  has  another 
import,  and  signifies  to  acquit  the  accused  of  the  crime 
alleged,  and  formally  to  pronounce  him  just  in  the  eye 
of  the  law.  In  neither  of  these  senses  did  we  suppose 
that  God  justifies  the  sinner,  when  he  forgives.  Surely, 
he  does  not  vindicate  the  sinner's  innocence,  nor  declare 
him  not  guilty,  when  compared  with  the  law.  This 


ON    JUSTIFICATION.  397 

could  not  be  done  consistently  with  the  truth  of  facts. 
The  sinner  is  a  transgressor,  or  he  would  not  need  for- 
giveness ;  and  it  will  eternally  remain  true  that  he  is  a 
transgressor ;  his  desert  is  as  indelible  as  his  being,  and 
can  no  more  be  destroyed  than  you  can  destroy  the  fact 
of  his  transgression.  It  cannot  be  supposed,  therefore, 
that  God  will  declare  the  sinner  righteous,  or  judge  him 
to  be  so,  since  he  will  not  declare  or  judge  him  to  be 
what  he  is  not.  Hence,  we  inferred  that  Gospel  justifi- 
cation is  not,  in  all  respects,  the  same  as  legal  justification, 
though  it  bears  a  resemblance  to  it.  It  is  not  pronouncing 
the  sinner  just  in  view  of  the  law ;  but  treating  him,  in 
two  important  respects,  as  if  he  were — exempting  him 
from  punishment,  and  giving  him  a  title  to  life.  In  legal 
justification,  the  law  is  made  the  rule  of  judgment,  and 
according  to  this,  sentence  is  pronounced  in  favor  of 
the  accused,  and  upon  the  ground  of  his  personal  inno- 
cence. 

But  in  Gospel  justification,  the  case  is  quite  different. 
Here,  it  is  not  justifying  the  righteous  whom  the  law 
approves,  but  the  ungodly  whom  the  law  condemns. 
The  law,  of  course,  cannot  be  made  the  rule  of  judg- 
ment ;  nor  is  sentence  pronounced  according  to  this  rule. 
It  must  not  be  forgotten,  however,  that  though  the  sinner 
is  not  justified  by  the  law,  or  according  to  the  law,  yet 
the  law  is  not  overlooked  in  this  case,  nor  its  honor  dis- 
regarded. It  did  not  become  Jehovah,  as  the  moral 
Governor  of  the  universe,  to  pardon  the  sinner  and 
restore  him  to  favor,  until  the  law  had  been  magnified 
and  made  honorable,  by  the  meritorious  obedience  and 
sufferings  of  Christ.  But  this  once  done,  the  way  was 
open  to  grant  two  important  benefits  to  the  believing 
sinner — remission  of  sin,  and  life  everlasting.  Both  of 
these  are  respected  in  the  act  of  justification ;  an  act, 
which  having  once  passed  upon  the  sinner,  is  past  for- 


398  ON    JUSTIFICATION. 

ever.  God  does  not  justify  him  conditionally,  but  abso- 
lutely and  finally ;  for  whom  he  calls  them  he  justifies, 
and  whom  he  justifies  them  also  he  glorifies. 

Second.  As  to  the  righteousness  on  account  of  which 
God  justifies  us,  we  attempted  to  show  that  it  could  not 
be  our  own  personal  righteousness  according  to  the  law : 
first,  because  we  have  no  such  righteousness ;  and  sec- 
ondly, because  this  is  not  the  righteousness  supposed  or 
demanded  in  the  justification  of  a  sinner,  the  law  not 
being  the  rule  of  judgment  in  the  case.  Nor  did  we 
allow  it  to  be  the  righteousness  of  faith  considered  as  a 
moral  virtue,  as  though  faith  and  the  fruits  of  it  held 
under  the  Gospel  the  same  place  as  a  perfect  legal  right- 
eousness under  the  law.  Men  are  exceedingly  apt  to 
suppose  this;  and  many  a  self-righteous  heart  is  still 
seeking  justification,  like  the  Jews  of  old,  not  by  a  per- 
fect and  sinless  obedience,  but  by  the  merit  of  its  own 
good  endeavors,  or,  as  it  were,  by  the  works  of  the  law. 
Against  this  erroneous  conception  we  urged  two  import- 
ant considerations:  first,  that  the  righteousness  which 
God  regards  as  the  true  and  proper  ground  of  our  justi- 
fication, is  declared  to  be  a  righteousness  without  works; 
which  could  not  be  true  if  faith  or  its  fruits  were  ac- 
cepted as  our  righteousness,  and  became  the  formal 
cause  of  our  justification,  since  in  that  case  our  working, 
though  an  imperfect  working,  would  still  constitute  the 
righteousness  by  which  we  are  justified.  But  a  more 
important  reason  why  faith,  as  a  work,  cannot  be  admit- 
ted to  hold  the  place  of  a  justifying  righteousness,  we 
stated  to  be,  that  the  Scriptures  speak  distinctly  of 
another  righteousness  as  occupying  this  place,  and  it 
would  be  absurd  to  suppose  that  they  speak  of  two. 
They  declare  that  Christ's  righteousness  is  the  merito- 
rious ground  of  a  sinner's  acceptance  with  God.  "  There- 
fore, as  by  the  offence  of  one  judgment  came  upon  all 
men  to  condemnation,  even  so  by  the  righteousness  of 


ON    JUSTIFICATION.  399 

one  the  free  gift  came  upon  all  men  to  justification  of 
life :  for  as  by  one  man's  disobedience  many  were  made 
sinners,  so  by  the  obedience  of  one  shall  many  be  made 
righteous ;  that  as  sin  hath  reigned  unto  death,  so  might 
grace  reign  through  righteousness  unto  eternal  life  by 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord."     And  hence  it  is  that  Christ  is 
called  "the  Lord  our  righteousness/'  and  that,  in  the 
accomplishment  of  his  mediatorial  work,  he  is  said  "  to 
make  reconciliation  for  iniquity,  and  to  bring  in  ever- 
lasting righteousness."    This  righteousness,  thus  brought 
in,  we  endeavored  to  show,  was  the  righteousness  of 
Christ  as  Mediator,  including  both  his   suffe rings  and 
obedience — all  that  he  did  or  suffered  to  honor  the  pre- 
cept and  to  sustain  the  penalty  of  the  Divine  law ;  the 
righteousness  so  often  called  the  righteousness  of  God 
in  the  New  Testament,  because  it  is  eminently  of  his 
providing,  and  of  his  application  in  the  justification  of 
sinners;   the   righteousness  which  is  without  the  law, 
being  witnessed  by  the  law  and  the  Prophets ;  the  right- 
eousness which  is  unto  all  and  upon  all  them  that  be- 
lieve, whether  they  be  Jews  or  Gentiles ;  the  righteous- 
ness which  Paul  desired  to  have  when  he  expressed  his 
wish  "  to  be  found  in  Christ,  not  having  his  own  right- 
eousness which  is   of  the   law,  but  the   righteousness 
which  is  through  the  faith  of  Christ,  even  the  righteous- 
ness which  is  of  God  by  faith."     This  is  a  righteousness 
which  will  avail  to  the  justification  of  all  to  whom  it  is 
imputed,  and  it  is  imputed  to   all  who  believe.     We 
proceed,  then,  in  the 

Third  place  to  inquire,  what  is  intended  by  the  impu- 
tation of  this  righteousness  ?  Every  one  who  admits  that 
the  righteousness  of  Christ  is  the  meritorious  ground  of 
our  acceptance  with  God  must,  to  be  consistent,  admit 
that  it  is  in  some  way  imputed  to  us,  or  reckoned  to  our 
account.  But  the  question  is,  how  is  it  imputed,  and 
what  is  the  nature  of  this  imputation  ?  We  answer :  it 


400  ON    JUSTIFICATION. 

cannot  be  so  imputed  as  to  become  our  personal  right- 
eousness, and,  on  the  score  of  justice,  entitle  us  to  an 
acquittal  from  condemnation.  For  in  that  case  our  justi- 
fication would  not  be  an  act  of  grace,  but  of  debt ;  but 
all  true  believers  are  justified  freely  by  the  grace  of  God 
through  the  redemption  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus.  It  can- 
not be  so  imputed  as  to  become  our  personal  righteous- 
ness, for  this  farther  reason :  that  there  would  then  be 
no  room  for  justifying  the  ungodly,  but  the  righteous 
only,  contrary  to  the  declaration  of  the  Apostle.  Besides, 
the  righteousness  of  one  can  never  be  so  transferred  as 
to  become  really  and  truly  the  righteousness  of  another. 
Sin  and  holiness,  virtue  and  vice,  are,  in  the  very  nature 
of  things,  personal.  I  cannot  feel  to  blame  for  the  sin  of 
another,  unless  I  am  in  some  way  a  voluntary  partaker 
of  his  sin ;  nor  can  I  feel  praiseworthy  for  the  good  deed 
of  another,  unless  I  am  a  voluntary  partaker  of  that  deed 
by  some  feeling  or  action  of  my  own.  It  is  easy  to  con- 
ceive, however,  that  I  may  be  involved  in  the  conse- 
quences of  another's  conduct,  whether  it  be  sinful  or 
holy.  His  sin  may  subject  me  to  heavy  calamities,  or 
his  virtue  procure  for  me  many  important  benefits.  Thus 
the  transgression  of  Adam  was  followed  with  serious  and 
eventful  consequences  to  his  posterity,  yet  his  sin  is  no 
farther  their  sin,  than  they  have  virtually  approved  of 
his  conduct.  And  thus  the  righteousness  of  Christ  has 
procured  the  most  important  benefits.  It  avails  to  the 
believer  justification,  as  fully  as  if  the  believer  himself 
were  righteous.  God  treats  him,  indeed,  as  though  he 
were  righteous.  He  exempts  him  from  punishment,  and 
grants  him  an  unalienable  title  to  an  eternal  inheritance. 
He  receives,  therefore,  the  same  advantages  from  the 
Redeemer's  righteousness  as  if  it  were  his  own,  wrought 
by  his  own  sinless  obedience  to  the  Divine  law ;  and 
yet  that  righteousness  is  not  his  own  in  the  same  sense 
as  if  he  himself  had  been  obedient.  He  has  not  the 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 


401 


same  consciousness  of  innocence,  and  he  cannot  be  looked 
upon  in  the  same  light  by  other  beings.  He  is,  in  his 
own  proper  character,  a  sinner,  a  pardoned  sinner,  and 
thus  it  will  always  appear  to  himself  and  to  others.  We 
say  he  is  a  pardoned  sinner,  but  he  is  pardoned  entirely 
on  Christ's  account.  He  is  a  justified  sinner,  but  he  is 
justified  solely  out  of  respect  to  Christ's  righteousness, 
which  is  imputed  to  him,  or  reckoned  to  his  account. 
But  how  is  it  imputed  ?  In  no  other  way  but  by  giving 
him  an  interest  in  it,  and  making  it  available  to  his  ac- 
ceptance with  God.  His  interest  in  this  righteousness 
is  secured  by  his  believing  on  Christ,  and  becoming 
united  to  him  in  the  most  solemn  and  important  of  all 
relations. 

The  righteousness  of  Christ  is  imputed  to  the  believer 
much  in  the  same  manner  as  the  worthiness  of  Joseph 
was  imputed  to  his  brethren,  when  they  were  kindly 
received  by  Pharaoh,  and  had  the  land  of  Goshen — the 
best  part  of  Egypt — assigned  to  them  on  Joseph's  ac- 
count. It  was  enough  for  Pharaoh  that  they  were 
Joseph's  friends ;  and,  if  I  may  be  indulged  with  the 
comparison,  it  is  enough  for  the  Father  of  mercies  and 
the  Sovereign  Judge  of  the  universe,  that  believers  are 
the  friends  of  Jesus.  He  views  them  as  intimately  re- 
lated to  his  Son — he  the  elder,  and  they  the  younger 
born.  Members  of  his  body,  of  his  flesh,  and  of  his 
bones,  they  are  restored  to  favor,  and  made  heirs  of 
an  eternal  inheritance,  through  the  worthiness  of  him 
to  whom  they  are  related,  and  who  not  only  stands  high 
in  the  court  of  heaven,  but  has  a  covenant  right  to  plead 
for  those  who  truly  repent  and  believe  on  his  name. 
The  imputation  of  Christ's  righteousness  to  believers, 
therefore,  you  will  perceive  in  our  judgment  consists, 
not  in  any  transfer  of  righteousness,  so  that  they  thereby 
become  truly  righteous  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  but  simply 
26 


4Q2  ON    JUSTIFICATION. 

in  treating  them  as  though  they  were  righteous  on 
Christ's  account ;  exempting  them  from  punishment,  and 
bestowing  on  them  eternal  life.  Herein  is  his  right- 
eousness reckoned  or  imputed  to  them,  since  by  means 
of  it  they  are  treated  in  various  important  respects  as 
they  would  have  been,  had  they  themselves  been  right- 
eous. This  is  imputation,  and  the  whole  of  it,  so  far  as 
the  question  before  us  is  concerned.  To  suppose  an 
actual  transfer  of  righteousness,  so  that  the  person  to 
whom  the  transfer  is  made  has  the  same  natural  right  to 
demand  acquittal  and  acceptance  as  if  his  own  obedience 
were  spotless,  is  not  only  to  destroy  the  essential  proper- 
ties of  sin  and  holiness,  by  making  them  mere  matters  of 
debt  and  credit,  transferable  to  the  account  of  different 
persons  at  pleasure,  but  to  introduce  endless  confusion 
into  the  whole  subject.  Suppose,  for  once,  an  actual 
transfer  of  Christ's  righteousness  to  the  believer,  what 
shall  hinder  his  being  in  all  respects  as  righteous  as 
Christ  himself,  or  as  if  he  had  never  sinned  ?  Why, 
then,  is  he  not  conscious  of  this  righteousness,  and  why 
does  he  not  feel  the  same  self-approbation  that  he  w^ould 
do,  had  he  been  sinlessly  perfect  through  every  waking 
moment  of  his  being  ?  Why  is  he  tormented  with  in- 
dwelling sin,  and  often  chastened  for  its  indulgence  ? 
Will  you  say  that  he  is  righteous  only  in  his  covenant 
head,  and  this  in  relation  to  a  justifying,  not  an  inherent, 
righteousness  ?  Be  it  so.  It  is  certainly  something 
very  different  from  his  own  personal  righteousness,  the 
fruit  and  effect  of  his  obedience,  and  connected  with 
very  different  circumstances  and  results.  Indeed,  could 
such  a  transfer  be  supposed,  and  the  righteousness  of 
Christ  become  truly  and  properly  the  believer's  right- 
eousness, would  not  the  latter  be  righteous  in  the  eye  of 
God  and  his  law  ?  And  might  he  not  demand  an  ac- 
quittal from  condemnation  as  a  matter  of  justice,  not  of 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 


403 


mercy  ?  Where,  then,  the  propriety  of  confessing  sin 
and  imploring  pardon,  unless  to  forgive  the  penitent  and 
justify  the  righteous  is  one  and  the  same  thing  ? 

Fourth.  We  take  up  our  fourth  inquiry,  which  relates 
to  the  nature  of  that  faith  which  is  concerned  in  our  jus- 
tification, and  the  manner  in  which  it  is  concerned. 

It  is  admitted  on  all  hands,  except  by  the  Universalists, 
that  none  are  justified  but  true  believers.  For  though 
Christ's  righteousness  is,  in  itself,  abundantly  sufficient 
to  cover  the  sins  of  the  whole  world,  it  being  all  that 
was  necessary  fully  to  magnify  the  Divine  law,  yet  it  is 
the  will  of  God  that  it  should  avail  for  the  pardon  and 
salvation  of  none  but  those  who  repent  and  believe. 
They  alone  are  united  to  Christ;  they  only  possess  a 
spirit  which  seems  to  render  their  pardon  and  acceptance 
consistent  with  the  honor  of  the  Divine  government.  To 
suppose  that  God  should  extend  a  pardon  to  those  who 
persisted  in  acts  of  unrepented  hostility,  would  be  to 
suppose  him  willing  to  weaken  his  own  authority  and 
encourage  the  transgression  of  his  law.  Nay,  if  men  do 
not,  in  some  good  measure,  appreciate  the  methods  of  his 
grace,  if  they  do  not  humbly  and  thankfully  receive  their 
deliverer  in  the  character  and  offices  in  which  he  is 
revealed,  it  seems  but  a  natural  and  just  recompense  that 
they  should  be  excluded  the  benefits  which  he  brings, 
and  be  punished,  moreover,  for  their  contempt  of  God's 
mercy. 

But  whatever  we  may  think  of  the  fitness  or  unfitness 
of  such  a  course,  the  fact  is  unquestionable,  "  he  that  be- 
lieveth  shall  be  saved,  and  he  that  believeth  not  shall 
be  damned."  There  is  salvation  in  none  other  name 
given  under  heaven  among  men,  but  the  name  of  Jesus, 
nor  in  his  name  unless  we  believe  on  him,  while  all  that 
do  believe  shall  be  justified  from  all  things  from  which 
they  could  not  be  justified  by  the  law  of  Moses,  be  it 
moral  or  ceremonial. 


404  ON    JUSTIFICATION. 

But  the  first  question  here  is,  What  is  that  faith,  which, 
by  the  appointment  of  God  is  so  necessarily  concerned 
in  our  justification  ?  It  is  not,  I  remark,  a  mere  specu- 
lative faith,  however  firmly  rooted  or  long  established. 
Such  is  the  evidence  of  the  Gospel  report,  that  men  may 
assent  to  its  truth,  while  their  hearts  are  unreconciled  to 
its  doctrines ;  and  while  these  doctrines  exert  no  deci- 
sive influence  upon  their  hearts  or  lives.  Such  men  be- 
lieve, but  their  faith  is  dead,  or  inactive.  The  faith 
which  justifies,  is  a  faith  of  God's  operation,  and  the  fruit 
of  the  Spirit ;  a  faith  which  works  by  love,  and  which 
brings  the  heart  into  a  willing  and  cheerful  obedience  to 
all  the  Divine  commands.  In  particular,  it  may  be  stated, 
that  this  faith  receives  the  record  which  God  has  given  of 
his  Son,  cordially  approves  of  his  character  and  work, 
and  with  an  eye  steadfastly  turned  towards  him  as  the 
grand  medium  of  mercy  to  this  lost  world,  humbly  trusts 
in  his  righteousness  and  blood,  as  the  meritorious  ground 
of  pardon  and  acceptance  with  God.  The  true  believer 
is  one  who  has  been  thoroughly  convinced  of  his  lost  and 
ruined  state  as  a  sinner;  who  has  seen  and  felt  the 
justice  of  God  in  his  condemnation,  and  who  in  his  very 
heart  has  been  made  to  subscribe  to  the  excellency  of 
God's  law,  the  purity  of  the  precept  and  the  righteous- 
ness of  the  penalty.  He  has  been  made  willing  that 
God  should  reign,  and  has  rejoiced  to  know  that  he  is 
unalterably  determined  to  maintain  the  honor  of  his 
government.  It  has  been  grateful  to  him  to  find  that 
God  could  preserve  the  rights  of  his  throne,  his  love  of 
holiness  and  hatred  of  sin,  and  yet,  through  the  media- 
tion of  his  Son,  forgive  the  penitent  and  believing  sinner. 
In  this  state  of  mind  he  has  embraced  Christ  as  his 
almighty  Saviour  and  friend,  and  committed  the  keeping 
of  his  soul  unto  him,  desiring  nothing  so  much  as  to  live 
to  his  glory.  Such  is  a  true  believer,  and  such  the  na- 
ture of  that  faith  which  is  indispensably  concerned  in 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 


405 


our  justification.  But  how  is  it  concerned  ?  Not  as  a 
righteousness,  you  have  already  heard,  whether  in 
whole  or  in  part,  on  account  of  which  God  is  pleased  to 
pardon  and  accept  us.  How  then  ?  Only  as  the  ap- 
pointed means  of  bringing  the  soul  into  such  a  union 
with  Christ,  that  his  righteousness  may  be  imputed  to 
us,  or  improved  in  our  favor.  The  Scriptures  speak 
much  of  the  believer's  union  with  Christ.  They  repre- 
sent it  under  various  similitudes — as  the  husband  and 
the  wife,  the  vine  and  the  branches,  the  head  and  the 
members,  the  foundation  and  the  building ;  and  this 
union  is  strong  and  indissoluble.  It  is  both  a  union  of 
affection  and  a  union  of  compact ;  nay,  I  may  say  it  is  a 
vital  union,  the  Spirit  which  was  given  without  measure 
to  the  head  descending  abundantly  on  the  members, 
and  quickening  them  all  with  the  same  life-giving  power. 
Now  as  faith  is  the  grand  instrument  of  forming  this 
union,  on  our  part,  and  the  influence  of  the  Spirit,  which 
works  faith  in  us,  the  chief  mean  on  his,  there  seems  a 
propriety  in  considering  faith  as  that  which  in  a  peculiar 
manner  unites  the  soul  to  the  Redeemer,  and  conse- 
quently that  which  gives  us  an  interest  in  his  righteous- 
ness ;  and  hence  it  is  that  we  are  said  to  be  justified  by 
faith,  and  by  the  faith  of  Christ ;  because  it  is  by  faith 
that  we  are  thus  united  to  him,  and  his  righteousness 
reckoned  to  our  account. 

Two  things  are  certain  from  the  Bible  :  that  they  who 
are  justified  stand  in  a  peculiar  relation  to  Christ,  as  his 
children,  his  disciples,  his  friends,  nay,  as  the  members 
of  his  body,  his  flesh  and  his  bones ;  and  that  it  is  faith, 
the  root  and  source  of  all  other  graces,  that  brings  them 
into  or  constitutes  this  relation.  This  relation  supposed, 
justification  follows,  not  as  an  act  of  justice  due  to  the 
subject  of  it,  but  as  an  act  of  rich  and  unmerited  grace ; 
which  brings  me  in  a  few  words  to  inquire,  in  the 


406 


ON    JUSTIFICATION. 


Fifth  and  last  place,  wherein  it  appears  that  we  are 
justified  freely  by  the  grace  of  God. 

By  the  grace  of  God,  we  mean  his  free  and  unmerited 
favor — that  which  flows  from  his  sovereign  goodness,  and 
which  he  can  give  or  withhold  as  he  pleases,  without 
trespassing  upon  the  rights  of  those  who  are  concerned. 
In  this  sense,  the  entire  scheme  and  work  of  our  salva- 
tion is  a  matter  of  grace.  God  was  under  no  obligation 
to  provide  a  Saviour  for  this  lost  world.  He  might  in 
justice  have  passed  them  by,  as  he  did  the  rebel  angels ; 
and  when  a  Saviour  was  provided,  it  was  a  matter  of 
mere  grace  that  he  determined  to  make  this  provision 
in  regard  to  any  effectual.  He  might,  so  far  as  justice 
is  concerned,  if  he  had  pleased,  have  left  all  to  reject 
this  salvation  which  the  Gospel  proposes — I  mean  all  to 
whom  the  Gospel  comes — and  to  sink  to  a  deeper  hell 
for  their  contempt  of  his  offered  mercy.  That  they  are 
made  willing  in  the  day  of  his  power,  is  a  matter  of  mere 
grace.  All  are  alike  disposed  to  reject  the  provisions 
of  the  'Gospel,  and  all  would  reject  them  if  God  did  not 
interpose  by  taking  away  the  heart  of  stone  and  giving 
an  heart  of  flesh.  But  as  in  all  these  steps,  so  necessary 
to  our  justification,  there  is  grace,  so  it  is  with  justifica- 
tion itself.  It  is  an  act  in  the  highest  degree  gratuitous, 
God  forgiving  freely  those  whom,  on  the  ground  of  just- 
ice, he  might  eternally  punish.  Christ,  indeed,  has  died 
the  just  for  the  unjust,  and  by  his  death  an  all-sufficient 
atonement  has  been  made ;  but  this  infers  no  obligation 
on  the  part  of  God  to  forgive  sin,  antecedent  to  the  con- 
sideration of  his  promise  in  the  covenant  of  redemption. 
There  was  no  such  value  or  merit  in  the  work  of  Christ 
even  as  to  bring  the  eternal  Father  into  debt,  or  bind 
him  on  the  score  of  justice  to  dispense  pardon  to  any  of 
the  human  family.  From  the  absolute  infinitude  of  his 
nature  he  can  receive  nothing  from  others,  not  even  from 
his  own  dear  Son,  and  of  course  can  be  brought  under 


ON     JUSTIFICATION. 


407 


obligation  to  none  except  by  his  own  vouchsafement. 
"  For  who  hath  first  given  to  him,  and  it  shall  be  recom- 
pensed unto  him  again ;  for  of  him,  and  through  and  to 
him,  are  all  things."  To  his  Son  he  promised,  as  a  re- 
ward for  his  labors  and  sufferings,  that  he  should  see 
of  the  travail  of  his  soul  and  be  satisfied ;  and  to  all 
true  penitents  he  gives  joyful  assurance  that  he  will  pass 
by  their  transgressions  and  restore  them  to  his  everlasting 
friendship.  But  this  is  all  a  matter  of  grace — grace  in 
the  provision  for  these  favors,  and  grace  in  their  actual 
bestowment ;  and  hence  justification  itself,  no  less  than 
the  gift  of  a  Saviour,  is  by  the  Apostle  regarded  as  an 
act  of  God's  free  grace.  "  Being  justified  freely  by  his 
grace  through  the  redemption  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus." 
How  great  this  grace  is,  in  the  present  world  we  shall 
never  be  able  fully  to  comprehend ;  but  enough  may  be 
seen  of  it,  when  thoughtfully  and  prayerfully  considered, 
to  awaken  the  deepest  gratitude,  and  to  call  forth  the 
song  of  thanksgiving  and  praise. 


LECTURE    XIX. 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF   FAITH. 


JAMES  i.  5,  6,  7. — "  If  any  man  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God  that  giveth 
to  all  men  liberally  and  upbraideth  not,  and  it  shall  be  given  him ;  but  let  him  ask 
in  faith,  nothing  wavering.  For  he  that  wavereth  is  like  a  wave  of  the  sea  driven 
with  the  wind  and  tossed.  For  let  not  that  man  think  that  he  shall  receive  any- 
thing of  the  Lord." 

THIS  is  one  of  the  many  promises  made  to  prayer ; 
and,  if  properly  understood,  would  teach  us  both  how  to 
pray  and  what  to  expect  from  the  performance  of  this 
duty.  It  places  distinctly  before  us  not  only  the  indis- 
pensable obligation  but  the  peculiar  importance  of  prayer. 
"  If  any  man  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God,  who  giveth 
to  all  men  liberally  and  upbraideth  not,  and  it  shall  be 
given  him."  But  if  God  will  give  wisdom  to  him  that 
asks — and  that  because  he  is  liberal  and  upbraideth  not 
— no  reason  can  be  assigned  why  he  should  not  give 
other  needed  blessings  to  those  who  duly  solicit  them. 
In  this  passage  we  are  taught,  also,  the  manner  in  which 
prayer  should  be  offered,  to  make  it  acceptable  and  avail- 
ing :  "  Let  him  ask  in  faith,  nothing  wavering.  For  he 
that  wavereth  is  like  a  wave  of  the  sea  driven  with  the 
wind  and  tossed.  For  let  not  that  man  think  he  shall 
receive  anything  of  the  Lord."  It  is  not  every  kind  of 
prayer  which  is  prevalent,  but  the  prayer  of  faith  only. 
The  doubting  or  wavering  man  has  no  reason  to  expect 
anything  from  the  Lord.  If  he  receive  it  at  all,  it  must 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH.  4QQ 

be  in  a  way  of  mere  sovereignty,  and  not  according  to 
promise  ;  for  none  of  his  prayers  possess  the  character  to 
which  the  promise  of  acceptance  is  made. 

But  to  place  this  whole  subject  more  distinctly  be- 
fore you,  I  shall  direct  your  attention  to  the  following 
inquiries  : 

First.  What  is  the  great  end  or  design  of  prayer  ? 

Second.  Wherein  does  the  importance  of  this  duty  ap- 
pear ? 

Third.  What  are  some  of  the  characteristics  of  an 
acceptable  prayer  ? 

Fourth.  What  is  to  be  understood  by  the  prayer  of  faith, 
and  how  far  has  God  bound  himself  to  hear  and  answer 
such  prayer  ? 

First.  What  is  the  great  end  or  design  of  prayer  ? 

1st.  It  is  not,  most  surely,  to  inform  the  Most  High 
of  our  situation  or  our  wants.  He  surrounds  us — He 
pervades  us — He  knows  our  up-rising  and  down-sitting, 
and  understandeth  our  thoughts  afar  off,  and  before  they 
are  formed  within  us.  All  that  we  have,  all  that  we 
are,  is  naked  and  open  to  him,  and  has  been  so  from 
eternity.  It  is  not,  therefore,  to  inform  Him  that  we 
pray. 

2d.  Nor  is  it  to  excite  Him  to  greater  degrees  of  pity 
or  benevolence,  or  to  render  our  own  case  or  the  case  of 
others  more  interesting  to  him  than  before.  He  is  infi- 
nitely kind  and  benevolent  always,  and  beholds  the 
wants  of  his  creatures  with  the  same  invariable  com- 
passion from  everlasting  to  everlasting.  The  immuta- 
bility of  his  character  and  attributes  necessarily  implies 
this. 

3d.  Nor,  in  the  third  place,  is  it  the  design  of  prayer 
to  effect  any  change  in  the  purposes  of  God.  This 
would  be  impossible,  since  he  is  of  one  mind,  and  who 
can  turn  him  ?  What  his  soul  desireth,  that  he  doeth 
in  heaven  above  and  in  earth  beneath.  And  why  should 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

he  not  ?  His  purposes  are  all  infinitely  wise  and  infi- 
nitely good,  formed  in  view  of  the  whole  system  of 
things,  and  of  every  possible  event.  They  could  not 
change  but  for  the  worse.  But  let  no  one  infer  from  this 
that  prayer  is  vain.  Though  it  cannot  change  or  per- 
suade God,  it  may  accomplish  very  important  ends  in 
relation  to  ourselves. 

1.  It  may  have,  and  is  designed  to  have,  a  beneficial 
influence  in  preparing  us  for  the  mercies  we  implore.    It 
gives  us  a  deeper  sense  of  our  dependence  on  God — a  bene- 
fit of  no  inconsiderable  moment  to  creatures  liable,  as 
we  are,  to  forget  that  dependence.    It  promotes  humility, 
by  bringing  us  to  the  foot  of  God's  throne,  where  we 
can  scarcely  fail  to  contrast  our  littleness  and  vileness 
with  his  infinite  greatness,  purity  and  glory.     It  engages 
us  to  put  our  trust  in  God  for  all  that  we  need,  as  well 
as  to  thank  him  for  all  that  we  receive. 

2.  It  is  designed,  also,  as  an  act  of  homage   to  our 
Creator — of  homage  due  to  his  infinitely  glorious  attri- 
butes, from  creatures  capable  of  perceiving  them,  and 
who,  at  the  same  time,  are  the  daily  recipients  of  his 
bounty.     Prayer,  in  this  view  of  it,  is  God's  right,  as 
well  as  our  duty ;  and  would  it  not  be  strange  to  say 
that  the  more  perfect  this  right,  the  less  are  we  obliged 
to  regard  it  ?     But  what  else  do  they  say,  who  refuse 
to  pray,  on  the  ground  that  God  is  so  great  and  so  good 
as  to  make  prayer  unnecessary  ? 

3.  Prayer,  moreover,  is  designed  as  a  mean  of  obtain- 
ing good,  and  of  warding  off  evil.     There  is  no  reason 
to  doubt  that  God,  in  the  plans  of  his  providence,  may 
have  connected  important  blessings  with  our  prayers, 
just  as  in  other  instances  he  connects  the  end  with  the 
means.     He  may  have  determined  that  certain  blessings 
shall  be  received  only  in  answer  to  prayer,  and  all  in 
accordance  with  his  unchangeable  purposes  and  designs. 
Prayer,  in  such  cases,  does  not  move  God  to  alter  his 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


411 


purposes,  though  it  may  be  said  that  in  view  of  prayer, 
prayer  of  a  certain  character,  and  flowing  from  the  lips 
of  certain  individuals,  and  on  certain  occasions,  his  pur- 
poses from  eternity  were  formed.  There  is  no  other  and 
no  greater  difficulty  in  this  case,  than  in  any  other  where 
the  means  and  the  end  are  conjoined,  whether  in  the 
determination  of  the  Divine  counsels  or  in  the  order  of 
Providence.  And  if  any  man  will  say,  because  God  is 
fixed  or  unchangeable  in  his  purpose,  I  will  not  pray — 
prayer  can  make  no  difference  in  my  allotments,  either 
here  or  hereafter — might  he  not  with  equal  propriety 
add,  neither  will  I  work,  nor  eat,  nor  use  any  means 
whatsoever  to  prolong  my  days  ?  for  here  also  the  Divine 
purpose  is  fixed,  and  the  result,  for  aught  he  knows,  as 
much  connected  with  his  own  agency  in  the  one  case  as 
in  the  other. 

It  is  enough  for  us  to  be  assured  that  God  has  estab- 
lished a  connection  between  asking  and  receiving — a  con- 
nection more  or  less  certain,  acccording  to  circumstances, 
but  of  sufficient  moment  to  awaken  our  hopes,  and  to 
become  a  powerful  stimulus  to  prayer.  All  the  promises 
made  to  prayer  imply  this,  as  do  also  the  many  instances 
in  which  God  has  heard  the  cries  of  his  people. 

Second.  Our  second  inquiry  is,  wherein  does  the  great 
importance  of  prayer  appear  ? 

We  shall  do  little  more  here,  than  name  some  of  the  N 
principal  articles  which  may  be  regarded  as  an  answer  to 
this  inquiry. 

1st.  We  mention,  first  of  all,  the  fact  that  God  is  styled, 
in  his  Word,  a  prayer-hearing  God.  "  0  thou  that  hearest 
prayer"  is  the  language  of  David,  when  moved  by  the 
Holy  Ghost.  This  is  God's  name,  and  his  memorial  to 
all  generations  •  and  it  carries  with  it  a  powerful  argu- 
ment for  addressing  his  throne.  It  is  virtually  proclaim- 
ing to  us  that  he  is  upon  a  throne  of  mercy — a  throne 
accessible  to  us  at  all  times,  where  we  may  bring  our 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

sins,  our  troubles,  and  our  wants,  with  the  joyful  assu- 
rance that  he  will  not  turn  away  his  ear  from  our  prayer. 
Prayer  is  not  then  a  useless,  but  an  important  duty. 

2d.  But  this  truth  is  more  distinctly  announced  in  the 
repeated  commands  given  us  to  pray.  It  is  not  left  us 
to  consider  prayer  as  a  mere  privilege,  which  we  may 
neglect  or  use  at  our  pleasure.  God  has  enjoined  it  in  a 
great  variety  of  forms,  and  thereby  intimated  that  it  is 
a  duty  well-pleasing  to  him,  and  of  deep  importance  to 
ourselves.  We  are  commanded  to  pray  always,  to  pray 
without  fainting,  to  pray  with  all  prayer  and  supplication 
in  the  Spirit,  watching  thereunto  with  all  perseverance 
and  supplication  for  all  saints.  We  are  commanded  to 
pray  in  our  closets,  in  our  domestic  circles,  in  our  public 
assemblies,  everywhere  lifting  up  holy  hands  without 
wrath  and  doubting,  and  for  all  men.  Prayer  must  then 
be  a  duty  of  imperative  obligation,  and  of  the  highest 
moment  to  ourselves  and  to  others. 

3d.  The  same  conclusion  follows  most  obviously  from 
the  promises  which  God  has  made  to  prayer.  Many  of 
these  are  upon  record,  and  though  somewhat  diversified 
as  to  character,  they  all  go  to  establish  an  important 
connection  between  asking  and  receiving  the  blessings 
we  desire.  "  The  Lord  will  hear  when  I  call  upon  him ; 
he  will  fulfill  the  desire  of  them  that  hear  him ;  he  will 
also  hear  their  cry.  He  hath  not  said  to  the  seed  of 
Jacob,  seek  ye  me  in  vain.  Before  they  call  I  will  an- 
swer, and  while  they  are  yet  speaking  I  will  hear.  Ask 
and  ye  shall  receive  ;  seek  and  ye  shall  find  ;  knock  and 
it  shall  be  opened  unto  you.  Ask  and  receive,  that  your 
joy  may  be  full."  This  is  the  current  language  of  the 
Bible.  How  strict  the  connection  is  between  asking 
and  receiving,  or  under  what  circumstances  God  has 
pledged  himself  to  hear  and  answer  the  prayers  of  his 
people,  it  is  not  my  intention  in  this  place  to  inquire.  It 
is  sufficient  to  have  it  understood  that  a  connection  exists, 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


413 


of  more  or  less  strictness ;  for  this  fully  establishes  the 
importance  of  prayer. 

4th.  We  shall  be  still  more  impressed  with  this  truth 
if  we  consider  a  moment  what  prayer  has  actually  done. 

The  prayers  of  Abraham  were  effectual  in  removing 
Divine  judgments,  and  in  procuring  important  blessings 
for  himself  and  for  his  children ;  and  if  there  had  been 
ten  righteous  men  in  Sodom,  his  prayers  would  have 
saved  that  guilty  city. 

The  prayers  of  Moses  suspended  the  plagues  of  Egypt 
and  saved  Israel  at  the  borders  of  the  Red  Sea ;  and 
often  did  his  prayers  avert  Divine  judgments  from  this 
guilty  people,  while  in  the  wilderness  and  on  their  jour- 
ney to  the  promised  land.  Behold  him  interceding  for 
them  when  they  made  and  worshiped  the  molten  calf, 
and  when  they  rebelled  at  the  return  of  the  spies. 
Never  was  the  prayer  of  mortal  more  disinterested  or 
more  ardent ;  and  never,  perhaps,  did  God  answer  in  a 
manner  more  gracious  and  condescending.  "  I  have 
heard  thee,"  says  God,  "  and  pardoned  the  people  ac- 
cording to  thy  word,"  (Ex.  32 :  Num.  19.)  I  might  re- 
fer you  to  the  prayers  of  Joshua,  of  Gideon,  of  Barak, 
Samson,  David  and  others,  which  were  graciously  ac- 
cepted and  answered.  Often  has  God  heard  his  people 
in  the  very  thing  which  they  asked.  "  Elijah  prayed, 
and  it  rained  not  for  the  space  of  three  years  and  six 
months ;  he  prayed  again,  and  the  heavens  gave  rain." 
The  prayers  of  Elisha  proved  a  surer  defence  to  Israel, 
than  thousands  of  chariots  and  horsemen.  And  what 
shall  we  say  of  Isaiah,  Jeremiah,  Daniel — all  of  whom  had 
power  with  God,  and  prevailed  ?  Their  cries  entered 
into  the  ears  of  the  God  of  Sabaoth,  and  were  honored 
with  signal  interpositions  of  the  Divine  mercy.  Prayer 
saved  the  Jews  from  the  murderous  sword  of  Haman,  in 
the  days  of  Esther  and  Mordecai;  grayer  rescued  Peter 
from  prison,  when  his  life  was  in  danger  from  the  blood- 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

thirsty  Herod ;  and  prayer  released  Paul  and  Silas  from 
their  chains,  and  from  a  dungeon  at  Philippi ;  and  was 
it  not  in  answer  to  prayer,  that  the  Holy  Ghost  de- 
scended on  multitudes  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  and  so 
many  thousands  were  turned  to  the  Lord  ?  The  efficacy 
of  prayer  demonstrates  the  importance  of  prayer.  But 
another  circumstance  which  shows  the  high  importance 
of  this  duty  is, 

5th.  God  often  suspends  his  favors  upon  the  condition 
of  our  asking  for  them,  and  asking  in  a  suitable  manner. 
Thus  God  says  to  Ezekiel :  "  For  this  will  I  be  inquired 
of  by  the  house  of  Israel,  to  do  it  for  them."  He  had 
spoken  of  bringing  them  back  from  the  Babylonish  cap- 
tivity, and  resettling  them  in  their  native  land ;  of  giv- 
ing them  a  new  heart  and  a  new  spirit ;  but  this  he 
would  not  do,  but  in  answer  to  prayer ;  and,  therefore, 
in  another  place  he  declares :  "  Then  shall  ye  find  me, 
when  ye  shall  seek  for  me  with  all  your  heart,  and  with 
all  your  soul ;"  implying  that  they  would  not  find  him 
until  they  sought  him  in  this  manner.  Much  the  same 
thing  is  taught  in  God's  answer  to  Solomon  at  the  dedi- 
cation of  the  temple,  and  which  may  be  regarded  as  a 
general  rule,  at  least,  of  his  dealings  towards  that  nation. 
"  If  I  shut  up  heaven,  that  there  be  no  rain,  or  if  I  com- 
mand the  locusts  to  devour  the  land,  or  if  I  send  pesti- 
lence among  my  people ;  if  my  people,  which  are  called 
by  my  name,  shall  humble  themselves,  and  pray,  and 
seek  my  face,  and  turn  from  their  wicked  ways,  then 
will  I  hear  from  heaven,  and  will  forgive  their  sin,  and 
will  heal  their  land ;"  which  implies  that  if  they  would 
not  thus  humble  themselves  under  Divine  judgments, 
and  pray,  and  make  supplication,  they  had  no  reason  to 
expect  that  their  calamities  would  be  removed.  But 
the  Apostle  appears  forever  to  settle  this  subject,  wrhen 
he  says  in  direct  terms  :  "  Ye  have  not,  because  ye  ask 
not;  ye  ask  and  receive  not,  because  ye  ask  amiss;"  im- 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

plying  that  the  blessing  is  often  withheld  for  want  of 
prayer,  and  for  want  of  prayer  of  the  right  kind.  We 
would  not  assert  that  this  is  always  the  case,  or,  which 
is  the  same  thing,  that  God  never  dispenses  his  favor  to 
individuals,  but  through  the  instrumentality  of  prayer. 
He  is  a  Sovereign,  and  may  do  what  he  has  promised  to 
do — he  may  turn  aside  from  the  ordinary  course  of  his 
providence,  and  magnify  the  riches  of  his  mercy  con- 
trary to  our  expectations  and  hopes.  We  must  not 
limit  him,  where  he  has  not  limited  himself.  Still,  if  it 
be  a  fact,  that  he  often  suspends  the  blessing  upon  our 
asking  for  it,  and  our  asking  for  it  aright,  what  an 
argument  is  this  for  sincere,  humble,  and  importunate 
prayer ! 

6th.  I  mention  but  one  consideration  more  to  illustrate 
the  necessity  and  importance  of  this  duty,  and  that  is 
the  example  of  Christ.  Christ  not  only  prayed  often 
with  his  disciples,  but  he  prayed  alone,  offering  up  strong 
crying  and  tears  unto  Him  that  was  able  to  save.  With 
him  there  was  no  negligence  nor  weariness  in  this  duty. 
He  rose  up  sometimes  early  in  the  morning,  before  the 
day  dawned,  that  he  might  give  himself  to  prayer ;  while 
on  other  occasions  he  spent  the  whole  night  in  this  duty. 
But  what  did  he  pray  for  ?  He  had  no  sins  to  pardon, 
no  heart  to  cleanse.  No !  but  he  had  Satan  and  a  ma- 
lignant world  to  withstand,  many  labors  to  perform,  and 
much  suffering  to  endure ;  and  it  was  one  of  the  circum- 
stances of  his  humiliation,  that  he  who  was  naturally 
and  originally  possessed  of  all  power  should  be  in  a 
condition  to  ask  and  receive  aid  from  on  high.  But  we 
are  not  to  suppose  his  prayers  terminated  chiefly  on 
himself.  His  benevolent  heart  must  have  often  looked 
abroad,  and  sent  up  many  a  fervent  cry  for  enemies  as 
well  as  friends.  He  who  was  disposed  to  say  on  his 
cross,  "Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know  no.t  what 
they  do,"  cannot  be  suspected  of  having  overlooked 


416  ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

them  on  other  occasions,  especially  when  it  is  recollected 
how  much  he  constantly  labored  for  their  good.  So 
great  an  example  as  this  cannot  fail  to  impress  us  with 
the  fact  that  prayer  is  a  duty  reasonable  in  itself,  and  of 
the  deepest  moment  both  to  ourselves  and  to  others. 

Third.  Shall  we  inquire,  in  the  third  place,  what  are 
some  of  the  characteristics  of  an  acceptable  prayer  ?  If 
the  duty  be  important,  we  ought  to  know  when  it  is  so 
discharged  as  to  secure  the  approbation  of  Him  to  whom 
it  is  directed. 

1st.  I  name  as  one  circumstance  of  acceptable  prayer, 
that  it  must  be  the  prayer  of  a  righteous  man — in  other 
words,  of  a  true  Christian.     It  does  not  seem  possible 
that  God  should  accept  the  prayer  of  the  wicked,  as  it 
cannot  flow  from  a  right  spirit.     Besides,  we  are   ex- 
pressly told  that  "  the  sacrifice   of  the  wicked  is  an 
abomination  to  the  Lord,  while  the  prayer  of  the  upright 
is  his  delight."     We  will  not  say  that  God  never  hears 
the  wicked,  as  he  hears  the  young  ravens  when  they 
cry.     As  a  compassionate  Being,  he  may  so  far  regard 
their  supplications  as  to  deliver  them  out  of  their  troubles. 
This  is  what  the  Psalmist  intimates,  when  he  celebrates 
the  goodness  of  God  towards  "  those  who  go  down  into 
the  sea  in  ships,  and  do  business  in  the  great  waters. 
They  see  the  wonders  of  the  Lord  in  the  deep.     For  he 
commandeth  the  stormy  wind  and  lifteth  up  the  waves 
thereof.    They  mount  up  to  heaven ;  they  go  down  again 
to  the  depths;   their  soul  is  melted  because  of  trouble. 
Then  they  cry  unto  the  Lord,  and  he  bringeth  them  out 
of  their  distresses.     He  maketh  the  storm  a  calm,  so  that 
the  waves  thereof  are  still/' 

This  is  a  wonderful  expression  of  God's  mercy,  but  no 
proof  that  he  accepts  the  prayers  of  those  whom  he  thus 
delivers  from  a  watery  grave.  God  is  holy,  and  it  would 
be  inconsistent  with  this  attribute  to  approve  or  accept 
of  an  act  in  his  creatures  which  had  in  it  no  degree  of 


ON     THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


417 


moral  worth.  He  may  have  compassion  on  a  sinner,  and 
deliver  him  from  trouble  when  he  cries ;  but  he  cannot 
behold  his  character  or  his  works  with  approbation. 
This  has  always  been  a  stumbling-stone  to  many,  and 
not  unfrequently  furnished  the  ungodly  with  an  excuse 
to  withhold  prayer  altogether.  The  truth,  however, 
must  not  be  concealed,  whatever  abuses  may  be  made 
of  it.  God  hath  said,  "  He  that  turns  away  his  ear  from 
hearing  the  law,  even  his  prayer  shall  become  sin." 
And  David  confesses,  "  If  I  regard  iniquity  in  my  heart, 
the  Lord  will  not  hear  me."  And  will  he  hear  others 
who  regard  iniquity  in  their  hearts,  and  whose  prevalent 
disposition  is  opposition  to  God  and  his  law  ?  The 
prayers  of  such  persons,  as  well  as  all  their  other  acts, 
are  destitute  of  love  to  God  and  love  to  man,  and  cannot 
be  accepted  in  the  sight  of  Him  who  looks  to  the  very 
springs  of  action,  and  who  condemns  whatever  is  not 
accordant  with  his  law.  It  appears,  therefore,  to  be  a 
primary  requisite  of  every  acceptable  prayer,  that  it 
should  flow  from  the  heart  or  lips  of  a  righteous  man. 

2d.  But  secondly,  it  must  be  sincere,  expressing  an  un- 
equivocal desire  for  the  object  prayed  for.  It  must  in 
truth  be  the  language  of  the  heart — not  of  the  under- 
standing or  conscience  simply.  Too  many  of  the  prayers, 
even  of  God's  people,  we  have  reason  to  believe,  are 
deplorably  wanting  in  sincerity.  They  ask,  because 
they  know  they  must  ask,  and  not  because  they  truly 
desire.  But  this  is  only  to  play  the  hypocrite  before 
God,  and  cannot,  most  certainly,  secure  his  approbation. 
He  requires  truth  in  the  inward  parts.  But  we  remark, 

3d.  That  prayer,  to  be  acceptable  and  prevalent  with 
God,  must  be  earnest  as  well  as  sincere.  No  man  can 
doubt  that  this  is  an  important  characteristic  of  the  duty, 
when  rightly  performed.  We  find  it  entering  very  deep- 
ly into  many  of  the  prayers  recorded  in  holy  writ,  and 
powerfully  recommended  by  Christ  himself.  How  fer- 
27 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

vent  were  the  prayers  of  Abraham,  when  he  pleaded  in 
behalf  of  Sodom,  and  when  he  made  supplication  for 
Ishmael !  How  did  Jacob  wrestle  with  the  angel,  when 
he  interceded  for  the  life  of  the  mother  and  the  chil- 
dren !  He  saw  them  exposed,  as  he  apprehended,  to 
the  destroying  sword  of  Esau,  who  was  coming  out  to 
meet  him  with  four  hundred  armed  men,  and  he  said  to 
the  angel,  the  great  angel  of  the  covenant,  "  /  will  not 
let  thee  go  except  thou  bless  me"  Read  the  prayers  of 
Moses,  of  David,  Daniel,  Nehemiah  and  Ezra :  with 
what  ardor  do  they  pour  out  their  supplications  before 
God !  With  feelings  excited  and  elevated,  they  take 
hold  of  his  strength,  and  plead  with  an  earnestness  which 
shows  the  fullness  of  their  expectation  and  desire.  And 
Christ,  in  the  parable  of  the  importunate  widow,  and  of 
the  man  who  went  to  borrow  three  loaves  of  his  friend  at 
midnight,  has  very  distinctly  inculcated  the  necessity, 
not  of  sincerity  only,  but  of  earnestness  in  our  supplica- 
tions. Nay,  he  has  expressly  assured  us  that  such  earn- 
estness is  both  acceptable  and  available  with  God.  It 
is  the  effectual,  fervent  prayer  of  a  righteous  man,  St. 
James  tells  us,  that  availeth  much ;  implying  that  little 
is  to  be  hoped  at  any  time  from  our  prayers,  unless  they 
rise  to  a  holy  importunity. 

4th.  Let  me  remark,  however,  in  the  fourth  place, 
that  though  importunate,  they  should  not  be  dictatorial 
or  presumptuous.  On  the  contrary,  they  should  ever  be 
marked  by  the  deepest  humility.  This  is  an  important 
requisite  of  every  acceptable  prayer.  It  is  to  the  great 
God  that  we  pray,  the  dread  Majesty  of  the  universe, 
before  whom  all  nations  are  as  the  drop  of  the  bucket, 
and  as  the  small  dust  of  the  balance :  it  is  to  him  in 
whose  sight  the  heavens  are  not  clean,  and  before  whom 
cherubim  and  seraphim  veil  their  faces.  What  are  we, 
that  we  should  speak  to  this  great  and  glorious  Being  ! 
One  would  think  that  we  should  shrink  into  the  very 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


419 


dust  at  the  thought.  Surely  it  becomes  us  to  approach 
him  with  the  profoundest  reverence  and  humility,  laying 
ourselves  at  his  feet  under  a  deep  conviction  of  the  aw- 
ful distance  between  him  and  us.  This  was  the  temper 
of  Abraham  when  he  drew  near  to  God  in  the  plains  of 
Mamre.  We  hardly  know  which  to  admire  most,  the 
humility  of  his  address,  or  the  persevering  ardor  with 
which  it  was  urged :  "  Behold,  now,  I  have  taken  it  upon 
me  to  speak  unto  the  Lord  :"  as  if  it  was  a  great  thing 
— a  privilege,  of  which  he  felt  himself  wholly  unwor- 
thy. And  again  :  "  O  let  not  the  Lord  be  angry,  and  I 
will  speak  but  this  once."  Such  also  was  the  temper  of 
the  publican,  who  stood  "  afar  off"  from  the  mercy-seat, 
and  "  who  dare  not  so  much  as  lift  up  his  eyes  to  heaven, 
but  smote  upon  his  breast,  and  cried,  God  be  merciful  to 
me  a  sinner."  And  this  is  the  temper,  in  a  greater  or 
less  degree,  of  all  acceptable  worshipers.  Their  cry  is 
the  cry  of  the  humble  ;  and  of  them  God  hath  said  that 
he  will  not  despise  their  prayer.  His  promise  is,  that  he 
will  be  nigh  unto  all  such  as  are  of  a  broken  heart,  and 
that  he  will  save  such  as  be  of  a  contrite  spirit.  With- 
out some  portion  of  this  spirit  transfused  into  our  prayers, 
it  is  impossible  they  should  find  acceptance  with  God : 
while  they  who  have  most  of  it  will  stand  highest  in  the 
Divine  favor,  and  secure  the  richest  answer  to  their 
prayers.  The  Lord  loves  to  fill  the  empty  vessel — to 
raise  the  poor  up  out  of  the  dust — to  feed  the  hungry, 
starving  soul,  while  the  rich  he  sends  empty  away. 

5th.  I  add,  as  a  further  characteristic  of  acceptable 
prayer,  that  it  must  proceed  from  right  motives.  No- 
thing is  more  common  than  to  ask  for  lawful  objects 
from  improper  motives.  "  Ye  ask  and  receive  not,"  says 
the  Apostle,  "  because  ye  ask  amiss,  that  ye  may  con- 
sume it  upon  your  lusts."  The  object  might  have  been 
right,  but  the  motive  was  wrong.  Something  earthly  or 
selfish  gave  birth  to  their  prayers.  Perhaps  they  desired 


420  ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

the  gift  of  miracles,  that  they  might  benefit  their  friends, 
or  raise  their  own  credit  in  the  world.  Perhaps  they 
desired  to  he  saved  from  the  violence  of  persecution,  not 
that  they  might  serve  God  with  less  distraction  or  extend 
farther  the  borders  of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom,  but  that 
they  might  be  more  at  ease  in  their  callings,  and  sink 
more  quietly  into  the  enjoyments  of  the  present  life. 
Perhaps  they  were  divided  into  parties,  and  wished  some 
advantage  over  their  respective  opponents.  But  what- 
ever was  the  object,  the  motive  was  wrong.  God's  glory 
was  not  their  end — nor  their  own  best  good — nor  that 
of  others.  Whether  it  were  temporal  or  spiritual  bles- 
sings which  they  sought,  some  earth-born  motive  lurked 
beneath,  and  therefore  their  prayers  were  unavailing ; 
as  ours  also  will  be,  when  the  motive  is  such  as  the  all- 
searching  eye  of  God  cannot  approve.  Then  only  will  our 
prayers  enter  into  his  ears,  when  they  flow  from  a  heart 
deeply  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel ;  when  his 
glory  is  uppermost  with  us,  and  the  highest  good  of  his 
kingdom.  In  such  a  state  of  mind,  we  shall  ask  for 
right  things  in  a  right  manner  ;  and  God,  the  unerring 
judge  of  our  hearts,  will  accept  the  service  and  pro- 
nounce his  blessing. 

6th.  Finally,  I  might  say,  with  the  Apostle  in  our  text, 
that  we  should  ask  in  faith,  nothing  wavering ;  for  faith, 
no  doubt,  is  an  essential  ingredient  in  every  acceptable 
prayer. 

But  as  I  propose  to  make  this  a  matter  of  somewhat 
extended  discussion,  I  shall  defer  it  till  I  take  up  the 
fourth  general  inquiry,  viz.  :  "  What  is  to  be  understood 
by  the  prayer  of  faith,  and  how  far  has  God  bound  him- 
self to  hear  and  answer  such  prayer  '?"  In  the  mean 
time,  we  shall  conclude  this  lecture  by  remarking  that 
much  of  the  Christian  character  is  developed  in  the 
article  of  prayer.  "  He  that  prays  much,"  said  the  good 
Fenelon,  "  loves  much,  and  he  that  prays  little  loves 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


421 


little."  A  prayerless  Christian  is  a  contradiction  in 
terms ;  while  he  that  prays  not  from  a  right  spirit,  how 
much  soever  he  may  abound  in  the  duty,  falls  short  of 
the  Christian  character.  I  know  of  no  criterion  more 
decisive  of  the  reality  and  the  measure  of  a  man's  piety, 
than  his  prayers.  Just  so  much  as  he  has  of  the  spirit 
of  true  devotion,  just  so  much  and  no  more  has  he  of  the 
love  of  God  and  the  love  of  man  in  his  heart,  and  just 
so  much  of  reverence  for  God,  of  faith  in  God,  and  every 
other  Christian  grace.  Tell  me  how  much  he  prays, 
with  what  sincerity,  with  what  ardor,  with  what  watch- 
fulness, confidence  and  perseverance,  and  for  what  ob- 
jects, and  I  can  tell  you  how  much  he  loves  and  fears 
God ;  how  much  he  loves  his  neighbor ;  what  is  his  humil- 
ity, his  spirituality,  and  his  deadness  to  the  world;  what 
his  self-denial,  his  patience,  meekness  and  fidelity  in  the 
cause  of  his  Master.  All  these  virtues  are  but  the  modi- 
fications of  holy  love ;  and  the  strength  of  this  is  mea- 
sured by  the  spirit  of  his  devotions. 

Judging  then  by  this  rule,  how  much  religion  have 
we  ?  What  is  the  character  of  our  prayers  ?  Let  every 
one  who  is  in  the  habit  of  praying,  and  praying  in  secret, 
answer  this  question  for  himself.  If  he  can  find  what 
moves  him  in  this  duty,  and  especially  what  is  the  pre- 
ponderating motive,  he  will  find  the  master-spring  of  his 
soul,  that  which  settles  his  character  in  God's  sight ;  and 
which,  remaining  as  it  is,  will  settle  it  in  the  day  of  final 
retribution.  He  may  know  both  whether  his  piety  be 
real,  and  whether  it  be  in  a  declining  or  progressive  state. 
I  commend  this  subject,  my  young  brethren,  most  earn- 
estly to  your  attention.  Soon  you  will  be  called  to  leave 
this  sacred  retreat,  and  to  enter  upon  the  work  of  the 
Gospel  ministry — a  work  full  of  labor,  full  of  difficulty,  full 
of  self-denial.  Much  will  you  need  diligence,  and  forti- 
tude, and  patience,  and  resignation  to  the  Divine  will ;  but 
above  all  will  you  need  the  spirit  of  grace  and  supplication. 


422  ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

If  you  would  be  saved  from  worldliness,  from  pride,  from 
sloth,  and  from  whatever  would  dishonor  Christ,  or 
hinder  the  success  of  your  labors,  and  if  you  would  be 
eminently  holy,  or  eminently  useful,  cultivate  a  spirit  of 
prayer.  Let  this  be  an  object  with  you  now  in  all  your 
preparations  for  the  ministry ;  and  when  you  shall  enter 
upon  this  sacred  office,  do  not  forget,  I  entreat  you,  that 
prayer— fervent  and  believing  prayer — is  among  the  mighti- 
est weapons  of  your  spiritual  warfare. 


LECTURE    XI. 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF   FAITH. 


JAMES  i.  5,  6,  7. — "  If  any  man  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God  that  giveth 
to  all  men  liberally  and  upbraideth  not,  and  it  shall  be  given  him ;  but  let  him  ask 
in  faith,  nothing  wavering.  For  he  that  wavereth  is  like  a  wave  of  the  sea  driven 
with  the  wind  and  tossed.  For  let  not  that  man  think  that  he  shall  receive  any- 
thing of  the  Lord." 

IN  remarking  upon  these  words  in  a  former  Lecture, 
we  proposed  the  following  inquiries : 

First.  What  is  the  great  end  or  design  of  prayer  ? 

Second.  Wherein  does  the  importance  of  this  duty 
appear  ? 

Third.  What  are  some  of  the  characteristics  of  accept- 
able prayer  ?  and 

Fourth.  What  is  to  be  understood  by  the  prayer  of 
faith,  and  how  far  has  God  bound  himself  to  hear  such 
prayer  ? 

The  first  three  inquiries  have  already  been  considered. 
We  proceed  now  to  the  fourth,  and  ask 

What  is  to  be  understood  by  the  prayer  of  faith? 

This  expression  seems  obviously  capable  of  two  senses, 
and  must  be  understood  differently,  according  to  the 
different  kinds  of  faith  employed  in  prayer.  In  the 
primitive  Church  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  two 
kinds  of  faith  were  employed :  one  extraordinary,  being 
peculiar  to  certain  individuals,  who  had  the  gift  of  work- 


424  ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

ing  miracles ;  the  other  common,  belonging  to  all  Christians 
who  truly  embraced  the  Gospel.  Both  were  the  result 
of  Divine  teaching,  though  perhaps  in  a  different  way ; 
and  both  were  founded  upon  the  testimony  of  God :  still 
they  were  in  various  respects  different  from  each  other. 
The  first9  which  we  denominate  extraordinary,  and 
which  was  connected  with  miraculous  operations,  was 
not  necessarily,  it  would  seem,  a  gracious  exercise. 
Certain  it  is,  that  many  wrought  miracles,  and  miracles 
in  Christ's  name,  who  will  be  disowned  by  him  at  last. 
Whether  they  wrought  them  with  or  without  faith,  is  not 
expressly  said ;  but  as  they  wrought  them  in  Christ's 
name,  there  is  a  fair  presumption  that  it  was  through 
faith  in  that  name.  And  this  presumption  is  the  stronger 
when  we  consider  the  language  which  the  Apostle  holds 
on  the  subject  of  miraculous  gifts  in  general  (1  Cor.  xiii.) 
"  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels, 
and  have  not  charity,  I  am  become  as  sounding  brass,  or 
a  tinkling  cymbal ;  and  though  I  have  the  gift  of  pro- 
phecy, and  understand  all  mysteries,  and  all  knowledge ; 
and  though  /  have  all  faith,  so  as  to  remove  mountains, 
and  have  not  charity,  I  am  nothing."  Here  it  is  sup- 
posed not  only  that  men  might  work  miracles  without 
being  Christians,  but  that  they  might  work  them  in  the 
exercise  of  faith  in  the  Divine  power  and  veracity  :  nay, 
that  they  might  possess  all  faith,  so  as  to  remove  moun- 
tains, or  the  highest  degree  of  faith  connected  with  mira- 
cles, and  yet  be  destitute  of  charity  or  love.  Not  so  the 
faith  common  to  all  true  believers.  This,  in  all  cases,  is 
a  gracious  or  holy  exercise.  Love  is  essential  to  its  very 
being.  It  not  only  gives  credence  to  the  Divine  testi- 
mony, in  whatever  manner  exhibited,  but  cordially  ap- 
proves of  that  testimony.  It  is  not  merely  an  intellectual 
but  a  moral  exercise ;  and  hence  it  is  described  as  puri- 
fying the  heart  and  overcoming  the  world.  The  faith 
of  miracles  might  exist  without  a  renovated  heart ;  but 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

this  never  exists  except  in  those  who  are  born  of  God 
and  love  God,  and  therefore  it  is  placed  among  the  fruits 
of  the  Spirit,  and  regarded  as  the  grand  condition  of 
salvation.  "  Circumcision  is  nothing,  and  uncircumcision 
is  nothing/'  saith  the  Apostle,  "  but  faith  which  worketh 
by  love." 

It  is  not  to  our  present  purpose  minutely  to  distinguish 
between  these  two  kinds  of  faith,  nor  to  inquire  how 
often  it  is  probable  they  were  blended  together  in  the 
same  persons.  It  will  be  enough  to  have  it  distinctly 
understood  that  they  were,  in  some  important  particu- 
lars, diverse  from  each  other;  and  therefore  that  we 
cannot  reason  from  one  to  the  other  as  if  they  were 
radically  and  essentially  the  same. 

What  has  been  denominated  the  faith  of  miracles,  be- 
cause peculiar  to  those  who  wrought  miracles,  and  neces- 
sary to  such  extraordinary  displays  of  the  Divine  power, 
seems  to  have  been  not  only  a  firm  persuasion  of  the 
Divine  power,  by  which  all  things  possible  are  alike 
easy  to  God,  but  that  the  contemplated  miracle,  in  any 
given  case,  would  certainly  be  performed.  This,  it  will  be 
perceived,  was  more  than  simply  believing  that  it  was 
the  pleasure  of  God  that  miracles  should  be  wrought,  in 
greater  or  less  numbers,  in  the  name  of  his  Son,  and  on 
fit  occasions,  and  in  answer  to  prayer,  and  for  important 
purposes,  and  by  the  hands  of  those  to  whom  the  gift  of 
working  miracles  was  imparted:  for  all  these  things 
might  be  believed,  and  firmly  believed,  without  reaching 
the  point  that  a  particular  miracle,  in  a  particular  case, 
would  be  wrought.  Now  what  we  believe  and  maintain 
is,  that  the  faith  of  miracles,  whatever  else  it  included, 
always  involved  a  belief  that  the  very  miracle  contem- 
plated, in  any  given  case,  would  be  accomplished.  It 
did  not  stop  with  the  fact  that  God  was  able  to  accom- 
plish it,  or  that  he  had  promised  to  accomplish  it  on  any 
supposed  conditions,  or  that  he  was  a  God  of  truth,  and 


426  ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

would  not  fail  to  redeem  his  pledge,  but  it  went  to  the 
precise  and  definite  fact  that  the  miracle  contemplated 
would  be  performed.  How  this  point  was  reached  will 
be  an  after  consideration ;  but  that  the  faith  in  question 
did  most  certainly  reach  it,  we  think  is  evident  from  the 
manner  in  which  Christ  describes  this  faith  in  the  eleventh 
of  Mark.  When  his  disciples  expressed  their  surprise  at 
seeing  the  fig-tree  withered  away,  which  he  had  cursed 
for  its  barrenness  the  day  before,  he  says  to  them,  "  Have 
faith  in  God :  for  verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  whosoever 
shall  say  unto  this  mountain,  Be  thou  removed,  and  be 
thou  cast  into  the  sea,  and  shall  not  doubt  in  his  heart, 
but  shall  believe  that  those  things  which  he  saith,  shall 
come  to  pass,  he  shall  have  whatsoever  he  saith."  Words 
could  scarcely  be  framed  which  should  mark  with  more 
precision  the  fact  that  faith,  in  this  case,  was  to  believe 
that  the  miraculous  events  in  question  would  certainly 
take  place.  Such  a  faith  he  describes  both  negatively 
and  positively.  "Whosoever  shall  say  to  this  mountain, 
Be  thou  removed,  and  be  thou  cast  into  the  sea,  and 
shall  not  doubt  in  his  heart,  but  shall  believe."  Believe  what  ? 
Why,  that  those  things  which  he  saith,  shall  come  to  pass — 
in  other  words,  that  the  predicted  miracle  should  be 
performed,  by  the  mountain's  being  removed  and  cast 
into  the  sea.  Doubtless  such  a  faith  implied  an  unshaken 
belief  in  God's  power,  by  which  the  miracle  was  to  be 
accomplished ;  but  is  it  not  certain  that  it  implied  more  ? 
a  belief  that  it  was  God's  will  or  pleasure  that  the  miracle 
predicted  should  take  place  ?  Keeping  in  view  this  kind 
of  faith,  and  the  miraculous  events  with  which  it  stood 
connected,  our  Lord  adds,  in  the  very  next  verse : 
"  Therefore  I  say  unto  you,  whatsoever  things  ye  desire, 
when  ye  pray,  believe  that  ye  receive  them,  and  ye  shall  have 
them."  "  Believe  that  ye  receive  them "  is  a  description 
equally  precise  and  definite  with  that  which  he  had  given 
in  the  preceding  verse,  and  obviously  implies  a  belief  that 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


427 


the  things  desired  and  asked  in  prayer  would  certainly 
be  received.  Nor  can  it  be  well  questioned  that  the  "  aU 
things  whatsoever"  had  an  immediate  and  exclusive  refer- 
ence to  the  subject  in  hand,  or  to  miraculous  operations. 

That  a  persuasion  of  the  certainty  of  the  event,  or  the 
miracle  to  be  performed,  was  essential  io  this  peculiar  and 
extraordinary  kind  of  faith,  is  manifest  not  only  from  these 
words  of  Christ,  but  from  the  fact  that  those  who  wrought 
miracles  often  intimated  such  a  persuasion  before  the 
miracle  was  performed.  They  commonly,  if  not  univer- 
sally, prefaced  these  operations  by  some  declaration  of 
what  they  intended  and  expected  to  do,  and  thereby 
virtually  predicted  what  was  immediately  to  follow. 
Thus  Peter,  when  he  healed  the  lame  man  at  the  Beau- 
tiful gate  of  the  temple,  said  to  him :  "  Silver  and  gold 
have  I  none,  but  such  as  I  have  give  I  thee,"  (implying 
that  he  was  going  to  do  something,)  "  in  the  name  of 
Jesus  Christ  of  Nazareth,  rise  up  and  walk"  And  when 
he  cured  Eneas,  who  for  eight  years  had  lain  sick  of  the 
palsy,  he  said  to  him :  "  Eneas,  Jesus  Christ  maketh  thee 
whole,"  or  is  about  so  to  do,  "  arise  and  make  thy  bed ; 
and  he  arose  immediately."  It  is  perfectly  obvious  in 
both  cases,  that  the  Apostle  had  the  intention  and  expec- 
tation of  working  a  miracle  antecedent  to  its  being 
wrought ;  and  if  the  miracle  had  not  followed,  all  must 
admit  that  the  Apostle  would  have  been  disappointed ; 
or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  that  the  event  did  not  fall 
out  according  to  his  expectation  and  belief. 

Another  fact,  which  shows  that  a  persuasion  of  the 
certainty  of  the  miracle  was  essential  to  the  faith  by 
which  it  was  wrought,  is,  that  those  gifted  with  the 
power  of  working  miracles  did  not  always  attempt  to 
display  that  power;  or,  if  they  did,  they  failed  through 
unbelief.  Paul,  it  is  said,  left  Trophimus  at  Miletum 
sick ;  which  cannot  be  accounted  for  but  upon  one  of 
two  suppositions,  either  that  he  did  not  attempt  to  heal 


428  ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

him,  or  attempted  and  failed.  Whichever  be  true,  it  is 
certain  he  had  no  well-grounded  persuasion  that  the 
thing  would  he  done,  otherwise  it  would  have  been 
done,  God  having  bound  himself  to  accomplish  whatever 
his  people,  upon  good  and  sufficient  grounds,  firmly  be- 
lieve. We  say  good  and  sufficient  grounds,  for  neither 
the  faith  of  miracles,  nor  any  other  kind  of  faith,  ought 
to  be  considered  as  an  unfounded  conjecture — a  mere 
persuasion,  without  cause  or  reason.  On  the  contrary, 
this  faith,  whenever  it  existed,  was  a  firm  and  rational 
persuasion  that  the  Divine  power  would  interpose  for  a 
particular  purpose.  But  if  rational,  it  must  be  built  on 
evidence ;  on  evidence  not  only  that  the  power  of  work- 
ing miracles  was  imparted  to  men,  to  be  employed  on 
certain  fit  occasions,  and  for  high  and  glorious  purposes, 
but  that  it  was  the  pleasure  and  purpose  of  God  that  a 
miracle  of  a  particular  kind  should  be  wrought  at  the 
time  and  in  the  circumstances  contemplated.  This  was 
an  important  fact  to  be  believed,  for  nothing  short  of  this 
would  secure  a  belief  in  the  certainty  of  the  event,  an  es- 
sential characteristic  of  the  faith  of  miracles.  But  it  may 
be  asked,  how  could  it  be  known  that  it  was  the  plea- 
sure and  purpose  of  God  that  a  miracle  should  be  wrought 
in  any  given  case  ?  Whether  this  question  can  be  an- 
swered or  not,  let  it  be  remembered  that  this  fact  of  the 
Divine  purpose  must  have  been  known,  or  no  sure 
ground  for  the  certainty  of  the  event  could  have  existed. 
Our  reply,  however,  is,  that  the  purpose  of  God  in  the 
case  might  have  beeen  known  by  the  immediate  sugges- 
tions of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Nor  is  there  any  inherent  im- 
probability in  the  supposition  that  those  who  wrought 
miracles  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  should  receive 
intimations  from  him  when  and  where  these  mighty 
works  were  to  be  performed.  Did  he  preside  over  their 
thoughts  and  over  their  words  whenever  they  opened 
their  lips  on  the  subject  of  their  heavenly  message,  and 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH.  429 

can  it  be  thought  unreasonable  or  incredible  that  he 
should  point  out  to  them  the  fit  occasions  for  those  works 
by  which  their  message  was  to  be  confirmed  ?    Without 
some  supernatural  intimation  of  this  kind,  it  does  not 
seem  possible  that  any  firm  persuasion  of  the  miraculous 
event  could  exist.     For,  can  men  believe  without  evi- 
dence ?  or  could  evidence  be  derived  from  any  other 
quarter,  as  to  the  future  occurrence  of  a  miracle  ?     But 
allow  the  intimation  we  have  supposed,  from  that  ever- 
present  Spirit  who  was  given  to  the  primitive  disciples 
in  his  miraculous  teaching  and  guidance,  and  all  diffi- 
culty vanishes.     What  would  otherwise  appear  a  weak- 
ness or  absurdity,  becomes  a  plain  and  obvious  duty. 
And  thus  the  faith  of  miracles  will  have  something  to 
rest  upon,  as  it  is  nothing  else  but  giving  credit  to  the 
Divine  testimony.     It  involves  the  belief  that  a  miracle 
will  be  performed  in  a  given  case,  how  strange  soever 
the  miracle  may  be,  agreeably  to  the  suggestions  of  that 
Divine  Spirit  by  whose  agency  it  is  to  be  accomplished. 
Now,  with  regard  to  prayers  which  were  offered  in 
the  exercise  of  this  faith,  we  say,  once  for  all,  that  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  the  very  thing  which  was  asked 
was  always  granted,  because  this  is  agreeable  to  the  im- 
port of  the  promise  made  in  the  case ;  and  because  the 
very  nature  of  the  faith  thus  exercised,  presupposed  the 
known  purpose  of  God  in  regard  to  the  event.     It  was 
thus  that  "  Elijah  prayed,  and  it  rained  not  for  the  space 
of  three  years  and  six  months :  he  prayed  again,  and  the 
heavens  gave  rain."     But  can  it  be  supposed,  that  he 
made  this  prayer  without  a  special  intimation  from  the 
Divine  Spirit  that  such  a  petition  would  be  accordant 
with  the  will  of  God  ?     In  a  manner  similar  to  this,  we 
understand  that  passage  where  it  is  said,  "  The  prayer 
of  faith  shall  save  the  sick.:"  God  having  promised  that 
miraculous  effects  should  follow  a  prayer  offered  up  in 
the  exercise  of  extraordinary  or  miraculous  faith. 


430  ON  THE  PRAYER  OF  FAITH. 

But  there  is  another  kind  of  faith  employed  in  prayer, 
common  to  Christians  of  all  ages — a  faith  which  takes 
hold  of  the  Divine  attributes  and  the  Divine  promises, 
without  any  miraculous  intimation  concerning  the  re- 
sult— a  faith  which  rests  distinctly  and  primarily  upon 
God's  Word,  making  that  the  rule  and  limit  of  its  expec- 
tations. Whatever  is  declared  in  the  Sacred  Volume, 
it  stands  ready  to  receive,  and  to  employ  as  an  argument 
in  prayer.  Beyond  this  it  never  goes.  At  the  same 
time,  it  may  he  remarked  that  this  faith  is  the  fruit  and 
effect  of  Divine  teaching.  It  is  wrought  in  the  soul  by 
that  Almighty  Agent  who  enlightens  the  understanding 
and  sanctifies  the  heart ;  and  it  comprehends  in  it  such 
a  vivid  belief  of  what  God  is,  and  of  what  he  is  ready  to 
do  for  those  who  truly  seek  him,  as  no  unrenewed  man 
ever  possessed.  Nor  is  this  all ;  it  implies  a  cordial  ap- 
probation of  the  Divine  character  and  will.  For,  as  we 
have  already  heard,  it  is  faith  which  works  by  love. 

How  this  faith  is  put  forth  in  the  duty  of  prayer  may 
require  some  elucidation.  I  cannot  better  express  my 
own  views,  than  by  saying  that  faith  in  this  case  is 
directed  chiefly  to  two  things — the  attributes  of  God, 
and  the  promises  which  God  has  made  in  and  through 
his  dear  Son. 

1st.  Faith  in  the  first  place  is  directed  to  the  attri- 
butes of  God,  and  has  much  to  do  with  these  in  the 
article  of  prayer.  This  is  clearly  implied  in  the  declara- 
tion of  the  Apostle,  "  He  that  cometh  to  God  must  be- 
lieve that  He  is,  and  that  he  is  the  rewarder  of  them  that 
diligently  seek  him,"  as  if  there  could  be  no  acceptable 
worship  without  such  belief.  But  to  believe  that  God 
is,  is  not  simply  to  believe  that  God  exists ;  it  supposes 
and  implies  that  we  believe  him  such  a  being  as  he  has 
proclaimed  himself  to  be — in  other  words,  that  we  dis- 
tinctly recognize  his  glorious  attributes  as  a  foundation 
and  encouragement  to  prayer.  And  hence  it  is  that,  in 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH.  43  J 

most  of  the  prayers  recorded  in  the  Bible,  faith  is  seen 
to  fix  upon  one  or  more  of  the  Divine  attributes. 

But  to  enter  a  little  more  into  detail — let  me  say  that 
faith  often,  if  not  always,  takes  hold  of  the  Divine  power. 
It  comes  to  God  as  the  Almighty  Father  of  the  universe, 
who  with  infinite  ease  controls  every  event  throughout 
his  vast  kingdom.  Perceiving  the  whole  energy  of  na- 
ture to  be  in  his  hands,  and  that  creatures  are  but  the 
instruments  of  his  power,  it  acquires  assurance  that  his 
purposes  will  stand  and  that  he  will  execute  all  his  plea- 
sure. Let  the  day,  then,  be  ever  so  dark,  or  the  work 
to  be  accomplished  ever  so  difficult,  faith  finds  a  refuge 
in  the  power  of  God,  connected,  as  it  always  is,  with  his 
unsearchable  wisdom  and  goodness.  In  truth,  faith  has 
much  more  to  do  with  the  Divine  power  than  we  should 
readily  imagine ;  and  it  is  more  frequently  described  in 
the  sacred  writings  by  its  exercises  in  relation  to  this 
attribute  than  any  other. 

Thus  it  is  said  of  Abraham,  after  he  had  received  the 
promise  of  a  son,  that  "  he  staggered  not  at  the  promise 
of  God  through  unbelief,  but  was  fully  persuaded  that 
what  God  promised  he  was  able  also  to  perform."  Thus, 
also,  in  that  greater  trial  of  his  faith,  when  he  was  called 
to  offer  up  his  only  begotten  son,  he  appears  to  have 
kept  his  eye  steadfastly  fixed  on  the  power  of  God, 
"accounting  that  God  wTas  able  to  raise  him  up,  even 
from  the  dead." 

The  same  thing  is  conspicuous  in  the  faith  of  the  blind 
men  who  followed  Jesus  in  the  way,  and  cried,  saying, 
"  Jesus,  thou  son  of  David,  have  mercy  on  us,"  (Matt,  ix.) 
When  Jesus  had  come  into  the  house  and  called  them 
to  him,  he  said,  "  Believe  ye  that  I  am  able  to  do  this  ?" 
He  does  not  say,  Believe  ye  that  I  will?  This  was  a 
point  in  his  own  breast,  which  they  were  unable  to  solve ; 
but,  Believe  ye  that  I  am  able  ?  To  which  they  replied, 
"  Yea,  Lord."  "  And  he  touched  their  eyes,  and  said, 


432  ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

According  to  your  faith  be  it  unto  you ;  and  their  eyes 
were  opened."  They  no  doubt  hoped  in  the  mercy  of 
Jesus,  but  their  faith  was  primarily  built  upon  his  power; 
and  this,  for  aught  that  appears,  was  all  that  was  neces- 
sary to  secure  the  blessing. 

Similar  to  this  was  the  case  of  the  leper  mentioned  by 
the  same  Evangelist,  (Matt,  viii.,)  and  also  of  the  centu- 
rion who  besought  Christ  to  heal  his  servant.  The  leper 
came  to  Jesus,  saying,  "  Lord,  if  thou  wilt,  thou  canst 
make  me  clean."  He  had  no  doubt,  it  seems,  of  Christ's 
power;  here  his  faith  was  full  and  unwavering.  But 
he  had  no  certain,  perhaps  no  preponderating  belief  of 
Christ's  will  or  intention  in  the  case.  "  Lord,  if  thou  wilt, 
thou  canst,"  was  his  prayer,  fully  recognizing  the  power 
of  Christ  to  grant  his  request,  and  referring  the  event  to 
his  sovereign  pleasure. 

As  to  the  centurion,  his  faith  was  of  so  remarkable  a 
character  as  to  lead  the  Saviour  to  exclaim,  "  Verily,  I 
have  not  found  so  great  faith,  no,  not  in  Israel."  And  yet 
his  faith  chiefly  terminated  on  the  power  of  Christ.  For 
when  Jesus  proposed  to  go  and  heal  his  servant,  the 
centurion  answered,  "  Lord,  I  am  not  worthy  that  thou 
shouldest  come  under  my  roof;  but  speak  the  word  only, 
and  my  servant  shall  be  healed."  Jesus  said,  "  Go  thy 
way,  and  as  (or  since)  thou  hast  believed,  so  be  it  done 
unto  thee.  And  his  servant  was  healed  in  the  self-same 
hour." 

We  cannot  pursue  this  thought ;  but  there  are  many 
things  in  the  Scriptures  which  show  that  faith  looks 
much  to  God's  power,  and  that  its  strength  is  often 
measured  by  the  regard  which  it  has  to  this  attribute. 

But  as  it  is  with  the  power,  so  it  is  with  the  other  attri- 
butes of  God ;  faith  directs  its  eye  to  them  all,  as  they 
are  severally  and  harmoniously  displayed  in  the  works 
and  Word  of  God.  If  God  speak,  let  it  be  where  and 
what  it  will,  faith  stands  ready  to  hear,  and  to  give  an  un- 


ON  THE  PRAYER  OF  FAITH.  433 

qualified  assent.  Is  it  asserted,  in  the  Bible,  that  God 
is  wise,  infinitely  wise  ?  Faith  fully  accredits  the  asser- 
tion, and  would  do  so,  even  if  the  characters  of  wisdom 
were  less  visibly  inscribed  on  the  works  of  God.  This 
is  a  joyful  truth,  on  which  it  safely  reposes  at  all  times, 
and  especially  in  seasons  of  darkness  and  calamity,  when 
the  aspects  of  Providence  are  mysterious  or  foreboding. 

It  is  said  that  God  is  gracious  and  merciful,  ready  to 
forgive  the  penitent  and  believing  ?  Faith  responds  to 
it  with  confidence  and  joy,  and  flies  to  the  bosom  of 
eternal  mercy  as  its  only  refuge  ;  yes,  and  to  this  same 
bosom  it  delights  to  carry  the  sins  and  sorrows  of  others, 
while  with  humble,  but  importunate  desires,  it  pleads 
that  they  too  may  receive  from  this  rich  and  overflowing 
fountain.  It  is  easy  to  see,  also,  that  faith  looks  strongly 
to  the  purity  and  justice  of  God,  and  no  less  to  his  un- 
changing truth  and  faithfulness.  His  truth,  indeed,  is 
that  glorious  attribute  to  which  it  necessarily  cleaves, 
and  on  which  it  stands,  as  on  a  basis  firm  and  immova- 
ble. In  nothing,  perhaps,  is  faith  displayed  more,  than 
in  taking  God  at  his  word,  and  in  exercising  an  implicit 
confidence  in  his  promises.  But  this  brings  us  to  inquire 
more  particularly, 

2d.  How  faith  regards  the  promises  of  God,  all  of 
which  are  made  in  and  through  his  dear  Son.  Shall  I 
say  it  regards  them  as  they  are,  or  according  to  their 
true  intent  and  design  ?  In  other  words,  that  it  makes 
them  speak  a  language  which  the  Holy  Spirit  intended 
they  should  speak,  without  narrowing  them  on  the  one 
hand,  or  giving  them  an  improper  latitude  on  the  other  ? 
These  promises  are  different  in  their  character,  and  faith 
knows  how  to  distinguish  them.  Some  are  absolute,  de- 
pending on  no  condition  to  be  performed,  or  none  which 
is  uncertain.  Some  are  conditional,  because  the  blessing 
promised  is  suspended  on  something  which  may  or  may 
not  take  place.  Other  promises  are  local,  confined  to 
28 


434 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


certain  individuals  or  times,  and  are  of  no  further  im- 
portance to  believers  in  general,  than  as  they  furnish 
examples  of  the  Divine  benignity  and  faithfulness.  Others 
again  are  universal,  because  they  apply  to  believers  of 
all  times  and  places.     Such  is  the  promise  of  the  pardon 
of  sin,  and  of  the  gift  of  eternal  life ;  and  the   promise 
that  God  will  never  leave  nor  forsake  his  people.     Other 
promises  may  be  called  definite,  because  they  hold  true 
of  every  individual,   and  of  every  case  which  comes 
within  the  purview  of  the  promise.     Such  is  the  promise 
made  to  the  faith  of  miracles.     By  the  very  tenor  of  the 
promise,  the  Divine  veracity  stands  pledged  to  the  very 
thing  asked  or  believed,  in  every  case  where  such  faith 
exists.     And  such  too,  in  effect,  is  the  promise  of  eternal 
life  to  him  that  believes.     But  there  are  promises  of  a 
different  character,  and  which  cannot,  with  any  reason, 
be  interpreted  with  such  undeviating  strictness.     Such 
are  the  promises  made  to  believers,  in  relation  to  their 
temporal  support,  and  as  to  the  measure  of  success  which 
shall  attend  their  worldly  enterprises.     These  we  call 
indefinite,  because  they  are  of  that  general  and  undefined 
character  which  leaves  the   special  application  of  them 
to  the  sovereign  pleasure  of  God.     When  Christ  said  to 
his  disciples,  "  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his 
righteousness,  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto 
you,"  meaning  food  and  raiment,  and  whatever  was  ne- 
cessary to  their  earthly  subsistence,  they  would  greatly 
have  mistaken  the  import  of  this  promise,  if  they  had 
interpreted  it  so  strictly  as  to  infer  that  his  truth  was 
pledged  in  all  cases  to  keep  them  from  suffering  and 
want.     "  Godliness,"  we  know,  "  hath  the  promise  of 
the  life  that  now  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come ;"  but 
who  would  think  of  inferring  from  this,  that  none  that 
are  godly  shall  suffer  hunger  and  thirst,  cold  and  nakedness, 
or  even  the  want  of  all  things  ?     Look  at  the  condition 
of  the  Apostles,  who  were  occasionally  subjected  to 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


435 


every    privation   and    suffering,   and   to   those    ancient 
worthies,   specially  commended  for  their  faith,   "  who 
were    destitute,    afflicted,   tormented ;    who   wandered 
about  in  sheep-skins  and  goat-skins,  in  deserts  and  in 
mountains,  in  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth" — God's  Word 
and  providence  must  be  the  interpreters  of  each  other. 
Keeping  our  eye  upon  this  circumstance,  we  find  no 
difficulty  in  understanding  his  promises  which  pertain  to 
the  temporal  subsistence  and  comfort  of  his  children. 
We  all  agree  to  consider  them  as  indefinite,  holding  true 
in  a  sufficient  number  of  cases  to  justify  Him  who  made 
them,  and  greatly  to  encourage  those  to  whom  they  ap- 
pertain ;  but  not  of  such  strict  and  undeviating  applica- 
tion as  to  allow  of  no  exception.     We  believe,  indeed, 
that  according  to  his  promise,  God  will  give  every  tem- 
poral good  which  he  perceives  to  be   the  best  on  the 
whole,  and  that  nothing  will  be  withheld  which,  in  all 
the  circumstances  of  the   case,  would  not  be  an  evil 
rather  than  a  blessing.     Why  may  it  not  be  so,  with 
respect  to  things  commonly   sought  in  prayer  ?     And 
why  may  not  the  promises  which  are  made  to  this  duty, 
be  interpreted  with  the  same  generality  ?     We  can  see 
no  reason  why  this  should  not  be  done,  except  in  those 
cases  where  the  will  or  purpose  of  God  as  to  the  event 
is  already  known.     In  every  such  instance,  we  cheer- 
fully concede  that  the  promise  is  to  be  interpreted  strictly. 
Thus  it  is  with  the  promise  made  to  the  faith  of  mira- 
cles, as  we  have  already  intimated,  and  with  the  promise 
of  pardon  and  eternal  life  to  the  penitent ;  and  thus  it  is 
with  all  those  promises  which  relate  to  the  ultimate 
spread  of  the  Gospel  and  the  universal  reign  of  Christ. 
In  all  these   cases  the  will  of  God  is  known,  and  we 
cannot  doubt  that  these  promises  will  be  literally  and 
strictly  fulfilled.     But  where   the    will  of  God  is  not 
known,  it  would  seem  reasonable,  and  even  necessary, 
to  regard  the  promise  as  indefinite,  holding  out  encour- 


436 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


agement  to  hope  and  to  prayer,  but  laying  no  foundation 
for  certainty  as  to  the  particular  result.  It  is  in  this 
manner,  we  suppose,  that  all  those  general  and  compre- 
hensive promises,  made  to  the  believing  suppliant,  in  the 
Scriptures,  are  to  be  interpreted.  Nor  will  it  make  any 
difference  whether  these  promises  relate  to  things  tem- 
poral or  things  spiritual.  They  seem  designed  to  com- 
prehend whatever  may  be  regarded  as  a  proper  subject 
of  prayer.  That  there  are  promises  of  this  description, 
which  alike  concern  every  true  believer,  and  which  he 
has  a  right  to  plead  as  often  as  he  comes  to  the  throne 
of  grace  for  any  legitimate  object,  will  not  probably  be 
doubted.  When  Christ  says,  in  his  sermon  on  the  mount, 
(Matt.  vii.  7,  8,)  "  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you ;  seek,  and 
ye  shall  find ;  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you : 
for  every  one  that  asketh,  receiveth  ;  and  he  that  seeketh, 
findeth;  and  to  him  that  knocketh,  it  shall  be  opened,"  it 
can  hardly  be  made  a  question  that  this  language  author- 
izes every  man,  and  especially  every  true  Christian,  to 
ask  what  he  will  for  himself  or  for  others,  pertaining  to 
this  life  or  the  next,  and  to  ask  with  the  hope  that  he 
shall  receive,  provided  the  object  be  lawful,  and  that  he 
ask  for  it  in  a  right  manner.  And  to  give  the  greater 
encouragement  to  prayer,  Christ  adds,  "  What  man  is 
there  of  you,  who,  if  his  son  ask  bread,  will  he  give  him 
a  stone  ?  Or  if  he  ask  a  fish,  will  he  give  him  a  ser- 
pent 1  If  ye  then,  being  evil,  know  how  to  give  good 
gifts  unto  your  children,  how  much  more  shall  your  Fa- 
ther which  is  in  heaven  give  good  things  to  them  that  ask 
him  ?"  Here,  then,  is  a  promise  that  if  we  ask,  we  shall 
receive;  if  we  seek,  we  shall  find;  if  we  knock,  it  shall  be 
opened  unto  us  ;  and  it  restricts  us  to  no  particular  kind 
of  blessings ;  but  its  language  is  broad  enough  to  cover 
all  our  wants  and  all  our  desires,  which,  at  any  time,  we 
may  have  occasion  to  present  to  the  throne  of  Divine 
mercy 


ON     THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH.  437 

A  serious  question  now  arises :  how  are  we  to  inter- 
pret this  promise,  and  other  kindred  promises,  alike 
comprehensive  in  their  character  ?  I  know  of  but  two 
general  opinions  which  are  entertained  upon  this  subject. 
One  is  that  which  I  have  already  suggested,  that  pro- 
mises of  this  kind  are  to  be  regarded  as  indefinite,  so  far, 
at  least,  as  they  stand  related  to  things  where  the  will 
or  purpose  of  God  is  not  known ;  holding  true  in  a  suffi- 
cient number  of  cases  to  encourage  hope  and  excite  to 
prayer — but  in  no  degree  pledging  the  Divine  veracity 
that  whatsoever  we  ask  with  the  faith  common  to  true 
believers,  or  if  you  please,  in  a  right  and  acceptable 
manner,  we  shall  certainly  receive.  The  other  opinion 
is,  that  God  has  bound  himself  in  these  promises  to  give 
to  his  children  whatsoever  things  they  ask  believing,  making 
no  exceptions — but  construing  the  promises  as  being 
strictly  and  universally  true,  applying  to  every  case 
where  the  blessing  is  sought  in  the  manner  required. 
Thus,  if  a  man  were  to  ask  for  his  daily  bread,  and  to 
ask  it  with  that  faith  which  he  is  bound  to  exercise,  the 
truth  of  God  stands  pledged  in  the  promise  to  grant  it; 
or  if  he  ask  for  any  other  favor,  temporal  or  spiritual,  for 
himself  or  for  others,  he  may  ask  with  an  unwavering 
assurance  that  he  shall  receive,  and  receive  the  very 
thing  he  asks.  Which  of  these  opinions  is  true  ?  To 
aid  in  determining  this  question,  let  me  solicit  your 
attention  to  the  following  remarks  : 

1st.  It  is  more  desirable  in  itself,  and  a  far  greater 
privilege  to  the  believer,  to  have  the  promise  understood 
with  the  limitation  we  have  suggested,  than  to  suppose 
that  God  is  pledged  to  give  the  very  thing  which  is 
asked,  be  it  wise  or  unwise,  for  his  own  glory,  or  the 
contrary.  Suppose  a  parent  has  two  sons,  and  he  should 
say  to  one,  "  I  will  give  you  whatsoever  you  ask,  provided 
you  ask  with  a  dutiful  and  confiding  spirit " — making  no 
exceptions  expressed  or  implied.  And  to  the  other,  "I 


438 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


will  give  you  whatsoever  you  ask,  asking  with  a  right 
temper — except  in  those  cases  where,  from  my  superior 
wisdom,  I  perceive  it  would  be  better  to  withhold ; " 
which  is  the  most  privileged  son  ?  Doubtless  we  should 
reply,  he  whose  answer  to  his  request  is  made  to  turn 
upon  his  father's  wisdom,  not  his  own.  I  hold  this  case 
to  be  precisely  parallel  with  the  one  under  considera- 
tion. Interpret  the  Divine  promise  strictly,  and  the 
believer  is  sure  to  have  all  that  he  asks ;  but  is  it  cer- 
tain that  he  will  have  that  which,  on  the  whole,  is  most 
for  God's  glory,  and  his  own  best  good  ?  Take  the  pro- 
mise with  its  proposed  limitation,  and  all  the  attributes 
of  God  stand  pledged  that  his  petitions  shall  result  in  his 
highest  welfare ;  he  shall  receive  all  that  is  good  for  him, 
and  nothing  shall  be  withheld  but  what  eternal  wisdom 
perceives  would,  in  all  its  connections,  prove  injurious. 
Does  not  this  state  of  the  case  furnish  a  strong  presump- 
tion that  the  promise  ought  to  be  interpreted  with  such 
limitations  as  we  have  suggested  ? 

2d.  Besides  :  who  that  is  in  any  measure  sensible  of  his 
own  weakness  and  fallibility,  but  must  be  compelled  to 
acknowledge  that,  in  a  thousand  cases,  when  he  prays, 
he  knows  not  what,  all  things  considered,  would  be  for 
the  best.    His  desires  may  be  ardent,  and  directed  to  an 
object  lawful  in  itself,  and  apparently  of  great  moment, 
when  yet  he  cannot  tell  whether,  in  the  whole  view  of 
the  case,  it  would  be  better  for  God  to  give  or  withhold. 
Why,  then,  should  he  not  refer  the  matter  to  one  who 
can  tell  ?     Is  not  this  an  act  of  submission  which  he 
owes  to  the  all- wise  and  almighty  Governor  of  the  world  ? 
Why  should  he  attempt  to  take  a  step  beyond  his  proper 
sphere,  and  by  an  unconditional  and  unqualified  request, 
affect  to  give  direction  to  events,  the  accomplishment  of 
which  he  knows  not,  and  cannot  know  without  a  special 
revelation,  would  be  for  his  own  good,  or  the  good  of 
God's  kingdom  ?     If  there  be  any  point  certain,  it  would 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


439 


seem  that,  where  our  ignorance  stands  confessed,  we 
ought  to  refer  our  petitions  to  the  sovereign  pleasure  of 
God. 

3d.  But  farther :  it  has  commonly  been  supposed  that 
our  prayers,  for  many  things  at  least,  should  be  offered 
with  submission.  But  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  of  any 
case  where  this  ought  to  be  done,  if  we  interpret  the 
general  promises  made  to  prayer  without  any  restriction. 
We  do  not  ask  God  to  raise  the  dead  and  judge  the 
world  at  the  last  day  if  it  may  please  him,  because  his 
pleasure  in  regard  to  those  events  is  already  known. 
Nor  could  it,  as  we  conceive,  with  any  propriety  of  lan- 
guage be  said  that  in  our  prayers  we  submit  these  events 
to  his  sovereign  pleasure  ;  because,  knowing  what  that 
pleasure  is,  there  is  no  such  alternative  in  the  case  as  is 
always  supposed  when  we  refer  an  event  to  his  sovereign 
disposal. 

But  if  all  the  promises  made  to  prayer  are  to  be  under- 
stood without  any  limitation  or  restriction,  pledging  God 
in  every  case  to  give  the  very  thing  which  is  asked,  how 
could  it  ever  be  our  duty  to  ask  with  submission  ?  Our 
requests,  it  would  seem,  ought  to  be  as  unqualified  and 
as  absolute  as  the  promise  ;  and  the  only  point  to  be 
aimed  at  would  be  firmly  to  believe  that  our  requests 
would  be  granted. 

4th.  Again :  it  is  not  unimportant  to  remark  that  the 
Apostle  John  appears  to  have  interpreted  the  promises 
made  to  prayer  with  the  same  limitations  which  we 
have  done ;  in  all  cases,  I  mean,  where  the  will  or  pur- 
pose of  God  is  not  known.  (1  John,  v.  14,  15.)  "This," 
says  he,  "  is  the  confidence  which  we  have  in  him,  that 
if  we  ask  anything  according  to  his  will  he  heareth  us." 
That  is,  as  I  understand  the  passage,  he  lends  a  gracious 
ear,  and  grants  our  requests  :  "  if  we  ask  anything  accord- 
ing to  his  will."  But  when  can  this  be  said  of  us  ?  If  the 
of  God  here  be  understood  to  mean  his  sovereign 


440  ON    THE    PLAYER    OF    FAITH. 

pleasure  as  well  as  his  preceptive  will — what  he  wisely 
purposes  as  to  the  event,  no  less  than  what  he  commands 
as  a  matter  of  duty,  (and  we  can  see  no  reason  why  an 
interpretation  thus  comprehensive  should  not  be  given,) 
then  it  is  obvious  that  we  do  not  ask  according  to  his 
will,  in  the  full  meaning  of  the  Apostle,  unless  three 
things  can  be  affirmed  of  our  petitions :  first,  that  they 
are  authorized,  embracing  proper  subjects  of  prayer; 
secondly,  that  they  are  offered  in  the  spirit  which  God 
requires ;  and  thirdly,  that  they  coincide  with  his  purpose 
or  his  sovereign  pleasure,  being  such  requests  as  in  his 
wisdom  he  will  deem  it  proper  to  grant.  When  all  these 
circumstances  concur,  no  doubt  can  be  entertained  that 
God  will  hear  our  prayers,  and  answer  us  in  the  very 
thing  we  ask.  But  this  is  adopting  the  principle  advo- 
cated in  the  preceding  remarks,  that  God  is  no  farther 
bound  by  his  general  promise  to  hear  the  prayers  of  his 
people,  than  to  give  such  things  as  in  his  wisdom  he 
shall  judge  most  suitable  in  the  case.  Not  a  few  com- 
mentators, both  ancient  and  modern,  have  regarded  this 
as  the  true  sense  of  the  Apostle  ;  and  hence  one  remarks 
that  the  language  here  employed  is  a  key  to  the  pro- 
mises made  to  prayer.  But  it  may  be  asked  if  the  very 
next  words  are  not  incompatible  with  this  view  :  "  And 
if  we  know  that  he  hear  us,  whatsoever  we  ask,  we  know 
that  we  have  the  petitions  we  desired  of  him."  The 
terms  are  universal — "whatsoever  we  ask."  True:  but  let 
it  be  remembered  it  is  whatsoever  we  ask  according  to 
his  will.  If  the  will  of  God,  therefore,  be  taken  to  mean 
his  sovereign,  as  well  as  Ins  preceptive  will,  the  limitation  is 
the  same  as  before.  Still,  it  may  be  inquired,  who  shall 
decide  this  point  ?  Perhaps  the  language  intends  no  more 
than  the  will  of  God  expressed  in  his  commands ;  and 
then  the  declaration  will  be  universal,  that  all  things 
absolutely  which  we  ask  of  God  in  prayer  will  be  granted, 
provided  they  are  things  lawful,  and  sought  in  a  right 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH.  44 } 

spirit.  Let  the  appeal  then  be  made  to  facts ;  does  God 
grant  all  that  his  people  ask,  even  when  they  ask  for 
things  which  he  has  commanded,  and  in  the  manner 
which  he  directs  ?  He  has  commanded  them  to  pray 
for  the  salvation  of  all  men,  and  to  pray  with  great  fer- 
vency and  importunity  :  and  did  never  one  of  his  chil- 
dren, not  even  Prophet  or  Apostle,  obey  this  command  ? 
perfectly  I  do  not  ask,  but  sincerely  and  acceptably  ?  Cer- 
tain it  is  that,  whatever  may  have  been  their  prayers, 
the  world  still  lieth  in  wickedness. 

Look  at  another  fact :  the  prayer  of  Moses  that  he 
might  go  over  and  see  the  good  land  which  was  beyond 
Jordan,  that  goodly  mountain  and  Lebanon.  This  desire 
was  natural,  and,  in  itself  considered,  reasonable  :  he 
longed  to  see  the  inheritance  of  God's  people,  from  the 
days  of  Abraham  the  subject  of  promise — the  place 
where  God  would  specially  reveal  his  mercy,  and  fulfill 
his  covenant  with  his  chosen.  But  God  would  not  hear 
his  prayer :  and  why  ?  Not  because  he  was  not  suffi- 
ciently humble,  or  sufficiently  in  earnest ;  not  because 
he  did  not  take  hold  of  the  greatness  of  God's  power, 
and  the  greatness  of  his  mercy,  for  he  plainly  did  both ; 
but  because  God  had  otherwise  determined.  His  prayer 
did  not  coincide  with  the  Divine  purpose.  He  had  sinned 
at  the  waters  of  Meribah-Kadesh,  in  not  sanctifying 
the  Lord  in  the  presence  of -his  people;  and  God  had 
doomed  him  to  fall  short  of  the  promised  land ;  nor 
was  it  in  the  power  of  prayer  to  reverse  this  sentence. 
Doubtless  there  were  reasons  pertaining  to  the  Divine 
government  which  operated  againt  the  petition  of 
Moses ;  but  it  is  enough  to  say  that  God  in  his  infinite 
wisdom  did  not  see  fit  to  grant  it.  Yet,  as  a  proof  of 
his  acceptance  of  Moses,  and  that  he  was  not  displeased 
with  his  request,  he  sent  him  to  the  top  of  Pisgah,  whence, 
with  strengthened  vision,  "  he  showed  him  all  the  land 
which  he  sware  unto  his  fathers,"  and  said,  "  I  have 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

caused  thee  to  see  it  with  thine  eyes;  but  thou  shalt  not 
go  over  thither." 

Look  at  the  case  of  David,  when  he  prayed  for  the 
life  of  his  child.  He  fasted,  and  w^ept,  and  lay  all  night 
upon  the  earth.  Was  he  not  truly  humbled  ?  was  he 
not  importunate  ?  did  he  not  go  to  God  in  the  full  belief 
that  from  his  infinite  benevolence  he  was  disposed  to 
hear  prayer  ?  For  all  that  appears,  he  was  never  in  a 
better  frame  of  mind ;  and  yet  God  did  not  grant  the 
thing  asked  for.  We  may  suppose,  indeed,  that  God 
approved  of  his  prayer  as  an  act  of  worship,  while  it  did 
not  consist  with  his  wise  and  holy  purpose  to  grant  the 
request.  But  it  may  be  said  that  David  had  no  right  to 
pray  for  the  life  of  the  child,  seeing  its  death  had  been 
denounced  by  the  prophet.  He  had  the  same  right,  let 
it  be  remembered,  that  Hezekiah  had  to  pray  for  his  own 
life,  after  the  prophet  said  to  him  :  "  Set  thine  house  in 
order ;  for  thou  shalt  die  and  not  live."  The  truth  is, 
neither  David  nor  Hezekiah  regarded  the  threatening  as 
absolute.  Had  they  done  so,  they  would  not  have  dared 
to  interpose  their  supplications.  But  they  supposed 
there  was  at  least  a  peradventure  in  the  case  ;  and  this 
encouraged  them  to  pray.  One,  however,  was  heard, 
and  the  other  was  not.  Can  any  other  reason  be  assigned 
for  this  difference  than  that  the  prayer  of  one  coincided 
with  the  Divine  purpose,  while  that  of  the  other  did  not 
coincide  ? 

How  was  it  with  Paul,  who  thrice  besought  the  Lord 
that  the  thorn  in  his  flesh  might  be  removed,  and  received 
for  answer,  "  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee  1"  It  cannot 
be  pretended  that  he  was  answered  in  the  very  thing 
which  he  asked ;  and  yet,  from  the  answer  which  he  did 
receive,  it  seems  impossible  not  to  conclude  that  his 
prayer  was  acceptable  as  an  act  of  duty.  What  shall 
we  say  of  his  constant  and  earnest  prayer  for  his  breth- 
ren, his  kinsmen  according  to  the  flesh  ?  Did  he  not  sin- 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH.  443 

cerely  and  fervently  desire  their  salvation  ?  Did  he  not 
plead  for  it  with  increasing  importunity  ?  and  yet,  as  a 
nation,  they  perished  in  their  unbelief.  There  is,  how- 
ever, a  still  stronger  case  in  the  history  of  this  Apostle : 
I  mean  the  final  perdition  of  some  who  enjoyed  the  bene- 
fit of  his  own  ministry.  Did  he  do  his  duty  with  regard 
to  these  men,  or  did  he  not  ?  Most  certainly  he  did  not, 
unless  he  made  their  salvation  the  subject  of  solemn  and 
earnest  prayer.  If  he  did  his  duty,  why  were  they  not 
saved,  on  the  supposition  that  God  has  promised  to  grant 
whatsoever  his  people  ask  in  a  right  manner  ?  One  of 
two  things  must  be  true,  either  that  they  perished 
through  his  unfaithfulness,  or  that,  he  being  faithful,  they 
perished  notwithstanding.  Which  of  these  alternatives 
shall  we  take  ?  If  the  first,  we  make  the  Apostle  guilty 
of  their  blood,  contrary  to  one  of  his  most  solemn  appeals, 
that  he  was  "  pure  from  the  blood  of  all  men ;"  if  the 
second,  we  give  up  the  principle  that  God  has  promised 
to  grant  everything  which  his  people  ask,  provided  they 
ask  in  the  manner  which  he  has  required. 

From  this  extended  view  of  the  subject,  what  other 
conclusion  can  be  drawn,  than  that  the  promises  made 
to  prayer  must  be  understood  with  limitation  in  all  cases 
where  the  will  of  God  is  not  known. 

If  the  question  then  return,  how  does  faith  regard  the 
promises  of  God  ?  our  answer  must  be  as  before — it  re- 
gards them  as  they  are,  and  embraces  them  according  to 
their  true  intent  and  design.  Absolute  promises  it  regards 
as  absolute,  conditional  as  conditional ;  those  which  are 
definite  as  holding  true  in  every  case,  subject  to  no  restric- 
tion or  limitation ;  and  those  which  are  general  or  indefi- 
nite it  regards  as  indefinite,  and  interprets  them  accord- 
ingly. Some  of  the  promises  it  considers  as  specifically 
made  to  the  Apostles,  and  others  in  the  primitive  Church, 
and  not  applicable  to  Christians  in  general ;  others  as 


444  ON    THE    PLAYER    OF    FAITH. 

belonging  to  Christians  of  all  ages,   and  designed  to 
awaken  hope  and  encourage  prayer. 

But  it  may  be  asked,  how  can  these  promises  encour- 
age prayer  unless  we  believe  them  ?  And  if  we  believe 
them,  do  they  not  insure  to  us  the  very  things  we  ask  ? 
Is  it  not  said  :  "  All  things  whatsoever  ye  ask,  believing, 
ye  shall  receive  ?"  and  again  :  "  Whatsoever  things  ye 
desire,  when  ye  pray,  believe  that  ye  receive  them,  and  ye 
shall  have  them  ?"  True :  but  these  promises  were 
made  to  the  immediate  disciples  of  Christ,  who  had  the 
power  of  working  miracles,  and  from  the  connection,  it 
appears,  ought  to  be  limited  to  them  and  to  others  gifted 
with  the  same  power.  Whenever  they  exercised  the 
faith  necessary  to  a  miracle,  the  Divine  veracity  stood 
pledged  that  the  miracle  should  be  performed.  But  as 
these  promises  were  made  to  a  peculiar  kind  of  faith,  it 
is  evident  that  they  cannot  be  applicable  to  Christians  at 
large,  by  whom  no  such  faith  is  exercised.  But  farther: 
suppose  that  these  promises  had  respect  to  all  true  Chris- 
tians equally,  it  is  plain  that  they  secure  nothing  until 
the  events  prayed  for  are  believed.  "  Believe  that  ye  re- 
ceive them  and  ye  shall  have  them'9  is  the  promise.  It  is 
not  enough,  of  course,  to  believe  that  God  is  able  to  grant 
our  petitions,  we  must  believe  that  he  will,  or  the  condi- 
tion of  the  promise  is  not  complied  with,  and  God  is  not 
bound.  But  how  shall  we  come  to  this  belief?  We 
cannot  come  to  it  through  the  medium  of  the  promise, 
because  the  promise  pledges  nothing,  and  secures  nothing, 
until  we  actually  believe.  It  affords  no  evidence  that  God 
will  grant  our  requests,  until  we  have  first  believed  that 
he  will  grant  them,  and  then  the  evidence  comes  too  late 
to  be  the  ground  of  our  faith,  because  we  have  believed 
already.  We  cannot  apply  the  promise  until  we  have 
fulfilled  the  condition  of  the  promise ;  but  in  fulfilling 
this  condition  we  have  exercised  the  faith  required, 
which  is  a  fact  prior  to  the  application  of  the  promise, 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


445 


and  not  subsequent  to  it ;  and  consequently  does  not 
depend  upon  this  application.  It  must  be  obvious,  we 
think,  to  all,  that  faith  in  this  case  cannot  depend  on  the 
promise,  whatever  else  it  depends  on ;  but  the  promise, 
as  to  its  obligatory  force,  depends  on  faith — which  must 
always  be  presupposed  before  the  promise  can  be  ap- 
plied. To  suppose,  as  some  have  done,  that  faith  is 
founded  on  the  promise,  is  to  suppose  that  the  effect  exists 
anterior  to  the  cause,  or  that  the  effect  has  no  cause  : 
for  until  faith  exists  the  promise  avails  nothing,  as  to  the 
certainty  or  probability  of  the  desired  event,  and  cannot 
be  the  ground  of  faith,  unless  it  be  to  believe  that  God 
will  hear  us,  if  we  first  believe  that  he  will  hear  us. 
From  what  quarter,  then,  must  the  evidence  be  derived 
on  which  this  prior  faith  is  to  be  built  ?  It  cannot  be 
drawn  from  the  promise,  as  we  have  seen,  for  that 
pledges  nothing  until  this  faith  is  in  being;  nor  from  any 
other  source,  conceivable  by  us,  short  of  an  immediate 
and  special  revelation.  That  such  a  revelation  is  possi- 
ble will  readily  be  admitted,  but  it  will  be  long,  if  we 
mistake  not,  before,  in  the  judgment  of  the  Christian 
world,  it  will  be  regarded  as  in  any  degree  probable. 

It  is  again  inquired,  however,  if  Christians  do  not 
draw  near  to  God  ^in  the  full  assurance  of  faith,  and  if 
they  are  not  required  to  ask  in  faith,  nothing  wavering  ? 
Certainly ;  this  is  their  privilege,  and  this  is  their  duty. 
But  what  is  their  faith  assured  of?  Not  that  they  shall 
receive  everything  they  ask,  whether  it  be  best  for  them 
or  otherwise ;  but  that  God  is  a  being  of  infinite  perfec- 
tion, ready  to  do  for  his  people  more  than  they  can  ask 
or  even  think,  and  who  will  do  all  that  they  desire, 
unless  his  eternal  wisdom  shall  decide  to  the  contrary. 
This  is  what  their  faith  is  assured  of,  when  it  is  grounded 
upon  the  Sacred  Oracles.  And  is  not  this  enough? 
Does  not  this  place  their  hopes  and  expectations  on  the 
best  possible  foundation  ?  Besides,  let  us  suppose  that 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

when  they  pray,  they  refer  their  petitions  to  the  sove- 
reign pleasure  of  God,  as  they  ought  most  surely  to  do 
in  all  cases  where  that  pleasure  is  not  known.  What  is 
the  import  of  such  reference  ?  Is  it  not  that  God  should 
grant  or  not  grant,  as  it  may  seem  good  in  his  sight  ? 
Let  the  event,  then,  be  as  it  may,  their  prayers  are  vir- 
tually answered,  though  they  receive  not  the  very  things 
they  desired.  They  receive  what  is  best  for  them,  and 
so  far  as  they  were  sincere  in  submitting  the  matter  to 
the  will  of  God,  they  have  what  they  ultimately  chose. 

Should  the  question  then  return,  with  which  this  Lec- 
ture commenced,  ' '  What  is  it  to  pray  in  faith,  and  how 
far  has  God  bound  himself  to  hear  such  prayer  ?"  the  an- 
swer will  be  obvious.  If  the  faith  concerned  be  the 
faith  of  miracles,  then  it  is  to  pray,  believing  that  the 
very  thing  which  is  asked  will  be  granted ;  but  if  refer- 
ence be  had  to  the  faith  common  to  all  true  Christians, 
then  it  is  to  pray  firmly  believing  in  the  being  and  attri- 
butes of  God,  in  the  truth  of  his  gracious  promises,  and 
in  the  general  fact  that  he  is  ready  to  hear  prayer,  and 
to  grant  to  his  people  whatsoever  they  ask  according  to 
his  will,  withholding  nothing  which  he  perceives  best  for 
them,  and  most  for  his  glory.  In  all  this,  however,  it  is 
to  be  understood  that  we  ask  in  Christ's  name,  and  ex- 
pect a  gracious  hearing  on  his  account  solely,  as  the 
great  Mediator  of  the  new  covenant,  through  whom  all 
the  blessings  of  that  covenant  are  bestowed. 

We  conclude  this  long  discussion  with  two  remarks. 

And  first :  if  we  have  taken  a  right  view  of  this  sub- 
ject, it  is  easy  to  perceive  that  they  must  labor  under 
a  mistake,  who  imagine  that  their  prayers  shall  infallibly 
be  answered  in  the  very  thing  they  ask,  provided  they 
ask  in  the  manner  which  God  has  prescribed,  or  in  a 
way  acceptable  to  him.  They  ask,  it  may  be,  for  the 
conversion  of  an  individual,  or  for  many  individuals  ;  and 
if  they  ask  with  a  certain  degree  of  fervor,  connected 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

with  confidence  in  God  as  the  hearer  of  prayer,  they 
suppose  that  he  is  bound  by  his  promise  to  grant  their 
requests ;  and  hence  it  has  been  common  for  such  per- 
sons not  only  to  indulge  the  hope  that  their  prayers  will 
be  literally  answered — a  circumstance  which  we  do  not 
condemn — but  to  predict  with  confidence  that  the  thing 
prayed  for  will  certainly  be  given.  They  are  sometimes 
heard  to  say  that  they  have  gotten  a  promise  to  this 
effect,  because,  as  God  has  promised  to  hear  prayer  of  a 
certain  character,  and  believing  that  they  themselves 
have  offered  such  prayer,  they  conclude  that  God  is  now 
pledged  by  his  promise,  and  will  verify  it  to  them. 
Their  mistake,  however,  lies  in  this :  Gcd  has  made  no 
such  promise  as  they  suppose  to  prayers  which  his  peo- 
ple offer  to  him  in  the  exercise  of  a  true  and  living  faith. 
They  construe  the  promise  as  if  it  were  definite  or  uni- 
versal; holding  true  in  every  case,  and  subject  to  no 
limitation  or  restriction ;  whereas  we  believe,  and  have 
endeavored  to  show,  that  the  promise  is  indefinite  in  all 
cases  where  the  will  or  purpose  of  God  is  not  known; 
of  course,  that  the  veracity  of  God  is  not  pledged  to 
grant  the  very  things  we  solicit,  but  that  he  gives  or 
withholds  according  to  his  sovereign  pleasure.  But,  to 
prevent  all  misconception,  let  me  explicitly  state  that 
there  is  the  utmost  encouragement  to  pray,  and  that  the 
hopes  of  God's  people  may  justly  rise  high  that  he  will 
hear  and  answer  their  prayers,  and  often  in  the  very  things 
which  they  desire ;  that  they  have  cause  to  hope  the 
more,  the  more  their  hearts  are  drawn  out  to  him,  the 
more  they  can  see  of  his  glory,  and  lie  at  his  feet,  and 
exalt  his  eternal  majesty  in  their  hearts ;  the  more  they 
can  take  hold  of  his  strength,  and  apprehend  the  truth 
of  his  promises;  the  more  they  can  see  of  Jesus,  the 
great  Mediator,  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  and  the  stronger 
their  reliance  upon  the  fullness  of  his  righteousness,  and 
the  preciousness  of  his  blood.  Nay,  they  may  have  so 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 

much  hope,  arising  from  these  and  other  circumstances, 
that  God  intends  to  hear  their  prayers  in  the  very  things 
which  they  ask,  as  to  indulge  in  a  prevailing  expecta- 
tion that  he  will ;  but  they  have  no  certainty,  nor  can 
they  arrive  at  it  by  any  process  whatever.  God  is  not 
bound,  nor  can  they  certainly  tell  what  he  will  do  until 
the  event  shall  declare  it,  unless  you  suppose  a  special 
revelation. 

But  I  hear  it  said,  would  God  breathe  into  my  heart 
such  desires,  so  sincere,  so  ardent,  unless  he  intended  to 
answer  them  ?  I  may  reply,  it  is  not  very  probable,  but 
still  there  is  no  certainty.  Had  not  Paul  very  sincere 
and  ardent  desires  for  the  salvation  of  his  brethren,  his 
kinsmen  according  to  the  flesh  ?  and  were  not  these 
desires  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit  ?  These  desires,  however, 
though  often  expressed  in  prayer,  were  not  granted. 
And  it  may  be  so  with  respect  to  many  who  offer  fer- 
vent prayers  now.  Besides,  where  has  God  said  that 
he  will  not  move  his  people  to  feel  and  pray  as  they 
ought  to  do,  without  giving  them  the  very  things  which 
they  ask  ?  Are  they  not  bound  to  plead  for  every  bless- 
ing, and  especially  for  spiritual  blessings,  with  the  utmost 
sincerity,  and,  where  the  blessing  is  supremely  import- 
ant, with  all  the  strength  and  fervor  of  their  souls  ? 
Would  they  not  thus  plead  if  they  were  perfectly  sanc- 
tified ?  and  would  it  not  be  a  privilege  to  plead  in  this 
manner,  though  God  should  not  always  grant  the  very 
thing  which  they  desire  ?  Who  can  say  that  God  does 
not  often  impart  this  spirit  of  prayer  chiefly  for  the  pur- 
pose of  bringing  his  children  near  to  him,  and  perfecting 
that  holy  fellowship  which  they  have  with  the  Father 
and  the  Son  ? 

Far  be  it  from  us  to  dampen  the  faith  and  hope  of 
Christians  by  these  remarks,  or  in  any  degree  to  diminish 
the  proper  inducement  to  prayer.  Would  that  they 
might  feel  a  thousand  times  more  confidence  in  the 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


449 


power,  and  wisdom,  and  grace,  and  covenant  faithfulness 
of  God  than  they  do,  and  that  they  took  a  far  deeper 
interest  in  the  cause  of  truth  and  the  salvation  of  their 
fellow-men !  But  we  desire  to  guard  against  a  spirit  of 
presumption,  and  to  promote  a  correct  mode  of  thinking 
and  speaking  on  this  deeply  momentous  subject. 

2d.  We  remark,  secondly,  that  as  we  have  no  au- 
thority for  predicting  any  particular  event  simply  on 
the  ground  of  our  prayers,  as  though  God  had  bound 
himself  to  grant  whatsoever  we  desire,  so,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  is  venturing  too  far  to  assert  that  we  shall  not  have 
this  or  that  mercy  unless  we  pray  for  it.  We  must  be 
careful  not  to  limit  God  where  he  has  not  limited  him- 
self. There  are  many  favors  which  he  ordinarily  gives 
in  answer  to  prayer,  and  some  perhaps  which  he  will  not 
give  unless  duly  solicited  at  his  hand.  But  it  is  wise  in 
us  not  to  invade  his  sovereignty,  nor  to  set  bounds  to  his 
goodness  where  he  has  set  none.  It  is  usual  for  God  to 
connect  the  salvation  of  children  with  the  fidelity  of  pa- 
rents ;  and  if  a  parent  is  unfaithful,  and  neither  prays  nor 
labors  for  the  conversion  of  his  children,  as  he  ought  to  do, 
it  might  justly  be  said  that  he  has  little  or  no  reason  to 
expect  their  conversion.  It  is  God's  usual  method  to 
connect  revivals  of  religion  with  the  prayers  and  fidelity 
of  Christians  in  those  places  where  revivals  occur;  and 
it  might  be  proper  to  say  that  Christians  have  no  reason 
to  expect  a  revival  in  such  places,  while  they  remain  in 
a  great  measure  indifferent  to  this  object,  and  neither 
pray  nor  labor  for  it  with  becoming  zeal.  But  is  it  not 
going  too  far  to  assert  that  this  is  God's  only  method  of 
building  up  his  cause  ?  that  a  revival  will  never  be  ex- 
perienced and  sinners  converted  until  Christians  awake 
and  cry  mightily  to  God  for  the  descent  of  his  Spirit  ? 
in  other  words,  that  God  will  not  pour  out  his  Spirit 
upon  a  congregation  but  in  answer  to  solemn  and  special 
prayer  by  his  people  for  this  object  ?  Such  language  is 
29 


450 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH. 


often  employed,  but  we  think  it  unguarded :  it  is  war- 
ranted neither  by  the  tenor  of  God's  promises  nor  by 
the  events  of  his  providence.  He  does  more  for  his 
people  often  than  they  ask,  and  sometimes  surprises 
them  by  a  mercy  which  they  neither  looked  for  nor  re- 
quested. I  could  mention  several  important  revivals  of 
religion,  (nearly  twenty,)  if  an  ingathering  of  souls  into 
the  Redeemer's  kingdom  ought  to  be  so  denominated, 
which  were  not  preceded,  so  far  as  human  eyes  could 
discern,  by  any  special  spirit  of  prayer  on  the  part  of  the 
Lord's  people.  They  were  manifestly  asleep  when  the 
heavenly  bridegroom  came,  and  were  roused  into  action 
only  by  his  almighty  voice  calling  dead  sinners  from  the 
tomb. 

Such  events  do  not  happen  to  exculpate  the  unbelief, 
the  slothfulness  and  stupidity  of  Christians,  but  to  display 
God's  sovereignty,  and  to  overwhelm  us  with  the  bound- 
less riches  of  his  mercy. 

I  know  it  may  be  said  that  it  is  not  easy  to  determine 
whether  such  revivals  as  I  have  alluded  to,  were  not, 
after  all,  the  immediate  answer  to  prayer.  Some  person, 
however  obscure  or  unheeded,  may  have  prayed  for  them 
some  time  or  other,  if  not  immediately  preceding  their 
commencement.  This,  indeed,  is  possible,  though  no 
evidence  can  be  produced  of  the  fact.  But,  were  this 
admitted,  one  thing  is  certain — the  churches,  as  collec- 
tive bodies,  were  asleep,  and  this  is  enough  for  our  pur- 
pose. It  shows  that  the  blessing  was  not  necessarily 
suspended  on  their  prayers — at  least  those  solemn  and 
earnest  prayers  to  which  the  promise  of  God  is  evidently 
made.  God  has  promised,  for  the  purpose  of  encouraging 
his  people  to  pray ;  and  he  fulfills  his  promises  in  such 
circumstances,  and  often  with  such  particularity,  as  to 
inspire  his  people  with  confidence  and  joy;  but  this 
hinders  not  the  display  of  his  sovereign  mercy  towards 
individuals  and  communities,  whenever  and  wherever 


ON    THE    PRAYER    OF    FAITH.  45  ^ 

he  may  judge  it  will  subserve  the  purpose  of  his  glory. 
Let  us  beware,  then,  of  taking  ground  which  he  himself 
has  not  taken,  and  of  dealing  out  assertions  concerning 
the  operations  of  his  grace  which  neither  his  Word  nor 
providence  will  sustain.  At  the  same  time,  let  us  also 
beware  that  our  very  caution  do  not  betray  us  into  luke- 
warmness  and  unbelief;  and  that,  under  a  pretext  of 
Divine  sovereignty,  we  excuse  our  want  of  zeal  in  the 
cause  of  man's  salvation.  We  act  under  a  fearful  re- 
sponsibility, and  danger  awaits  us  on  every  side.  Our 
only  safety  lies  in  making  God's  Word  the  rule  of  our 
faith,  and  his  glory  the  end  of  our  actions.  May  he  give 
to  us  that  humble,  inquisitive  and  impartial  spirit  which  is 
intimately  connected  with  successful  investigation,  and 
which  will  be  the  surest  pledge  of  our  understanding 
and  obeying  the  truth. 


LECTURE  XXI 


ON    APOSTACY. 


HEBREWS  vi.  4,  5,  6. — "  For  it  is  impossible  for  those  who  were  once  enlight- 
ened, and  have  tasted  of  the  heavenly  gift,  and  were  made  partakers  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  have  tasted  the  good  word  of  God,  and  the  powers  of  the  world  to 
come,  if  they  shall  fall  away,  to  renew  them  again  unto  repentance :  seeing  they 
crucify  to  themselves  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  and  put  him  to  an  open  shame." 

WE  have,  in  these  words,  the  character  and  doom  of 
those  who  openly  apostatize  from  the  Christian  faith, 
after  having  been  greatly  enlightened,  and  the  subjects 
of  supernatural  gifts.  It  is  evidently  no  ordinary  or  oc- 
casional backsliding  of  which  the  Apostle  speaks,  but 
one  which  is  deep  and  entire — an  apostacy  from  the 
principles  and  hopes  of  the  Gospel,  marked  with  the 
bitterest  contempt  for  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  for  the  Di- 
vine Spirit,  by  whose  mighty  signs  and  wonders  the 
Gospel  was  at  first  attested  to  the  world.  For  apostates 
of  this  guilty  character,  the  Apostle  asserts  there  is  no 
hope ;  not  because  God  has  not  power  to  reclaim  them, 
but  because  it  is  against  his  purpose  to  interpose  in  their 
behalf.  In  having  willfully  opposed  the  light  imparted 
by  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel,  and  by  the  miraculous 
operations  of  the  Spirit,  they  were  virtually  guilty  of  the 
sin  which  is  unto  death,  and,  of  course,  cut  themselves 
off  from  the  Divine  favor  forever.  On  this  point,  so  far 
as  I  know,  there  is  no  difference  of  opinion  ;  commenta- 
tors, with  one  voice,  admit  that  the  apostacy  here  spoken 


ON    APOSTACY. 


453 


of  is  final  and  irremediable.  They  admit,  also,  that  it 
was  the  design  of  the  Apostle  to  put  his  Hebrew  breth- 
ren on  their  guard  against  an  apostacy  of  this  fearful 
character.  But  the  question  which  has  been  long  agi- 
tated is,  who  are  they  that  stand  exposed  to  this  apos- 
tacy ?  They  are  persons,  doubtless,  whose  privileges 
and  attainments  are  here  described — "  those  who  were 
once  enlightened."  But  who  are  these  ?  Are  they  true 
Christians  ?  and  does  the  Apostle,  in  this  place,  describe 
Christian  character  ?  or  does  he  speak  of  such  only,  as  were 
greatly  distinguished  by  their  peculiar  gifts  and  attain- 
ments, while,  nevertheless,  they  fell  short  of  true  piety  ? 

We  ask  your  attention  to  the  remarks  which  may  be 
made  in  answer  to  these  inquiries.  And  let  me  here 
say,  it  is  of  the  more  importance  that  we  come  to  a  cor- 
rect interpretation  of  this  passage,  because  as  we  ex- 
pound this,  we  shall  be  led  to  expound  several  others  in 
the  sacred  volume  ;  while  the  principles  we  adopt  in 
this  explication  will  be  likely  to  shape  our  views  on 
other  topics  of  Christianity. 

By  those  who  deny  the  doctrine  of  the  saints'  perse- 
verance, it  has  been  universally  contended  that  the 
Apostle,  in  this  place,  describes  the  character  of  true 
Christians,  and  hence  they  infer  that  there  is  no  certain 
connection  between  any  measure  of  spiritual  attainments 
and  the  salvation  of  the  soul.  The  terms  employed  they 
consider  as  appropriately  describing  Christian  character ; 
and  since  the  Apostle,  in  the  warning  which  he  adminis- 
ters, goes  upon  the  principle  that  there  is  danger  of  falling 
from  the  state  here  described,  they  entertain  no  doubt 
that  true  Christians  may  fall  finally  and  irrecoverably.  If 
no  danger,  say  they,  why  caution  ?  And  danger  there 
could  not  be,  if  God  has  pledged  himself,  by  his  almighti- 
ness,  that  no  true  Christian  shall  apostatize. 

But  we  cannot  admit  this  interpretation,  for  several 
reasons. 


454 


ON    APOSTACY. 


1st.  Because  the  terms  employed  by  the  Apostle, 
though  descriptive  of  high  spiritual  attainments,  are  not 
the  terms  usually  employed  to  designate  the  Christian 
character.  They  are  not  properly  discriminative  of  this 
character,  as  we  shall  endeavor  to  show  in  the  sequel. 

2d.  Because  this  interpretation  stands  opposed  to  nu- 
merous passages  of  Scripture  which  assert,  in  the  most 
decisive  manner,  the  covenant  safety  of  the  people  of 
God.  It  does  not  fall  in  with  our  present  purpose,  to 
enter  into  the  proof  of  this  statement.  We  shall  only 
say,  it  is  upon  no  light  ground,  we  believe  that  those 
who  are  united  to  Christ  by  a  living  faith,  are  united  to 
him  in  a  bond  which  is  indissoluble  and  eternal.  "  My 
sheep  hear  my  voice,"  said  the  Saviour,  "  I  know  them, 
and  they  follow  me,  and  I  give  to  them  eternal  life,  and 
they  shall  never  perish,  neither  shall  any  pluck  them  out 
of  my  hand.  My  Father  who  gave  them  me  is  greater 
than  all,  and  none  is  able  to  pluck  them  out  of  my  Fa- 
ther's hand."  We  cannot,  therefore,  subscribe  to  an 
interpretation  which  is  so  manifestly  at  war  with  the 
plain  and  unequivocal  testimony  of  God.  Nor, 

3d.  Can  we  yield  to  it  for  another  reason,  viz.,  that 
it  ill  accords  with  the  words  of  the  Apostle  which 
immediately  follow.  Having  spoken  of  the  deplorable 
end  of  those  who  should  finally  apostatize,  he  adds,  by 
way  of  illustration :  "  For  the  earth  which  drinketh  in 
the  rain  that  cometh  oft  upon  it,  and  bringeth  forth 
herbs  meet  for  them  by  whom  it  is  dressed,  receiveth 
blessing  from  God :  but  that  which  beareth  thorns  and 
briers  is  rejected,  and  is  nigh  unto  cursing,  whose  end  is 
to  be  burned."  Under  the  emblem  of  different  soils  he 
sets  forth  the  different  character  of  Christian  professors. 
By  the  fruitful  soil  he  represents  true  believers,  who  re- 
ceiving the  word  into  good  and  honest  hearts,  bring 
forth  fruit  unto  perfection,  and  of  course  stand  secure  in 
the  Divine  favor.  And  by  the  unfruitful  soil,  or  that 


ON    APOSTACY. 


455 


which  beareth  thorns  and  briers,  he  designates  those 
whose  fallow  ground  was  never  broken  up,  and  who, 
though  they  receive  the  word  even  with  joy,  still  have 
no  root  in  themselves,  and  in  time  of  temptation  may 
fall  away.  The  one  class,  like  the  fruitful  earth,  receiv- 
eth  blessing  from  God ;  the  other,  like  the  barren  earth, 
is  nigh  unto  cursing,  whose  end  is  to  be  burned.  "  But 
beloved,  "  says  the  Apostle,  "  we  are  persuaded  better 
things  of  you,  and  things  which  accompany  salvation, 
though  we  thus  speak."  As  if  there  were  some  things 
which  did  accompany  salvation,  or  were  infallibly  con- 
nected with  it,  and  others  which  did  not  thus  accompany 
it.  The  former  I  take  to  be  the  better  things  which  the 
Apostle  was  persuaded  were  possessed  by  his  beloved 
brethren,  and  which  would  not  only  secure  them  against 
final  apostacy,  but  entitle  them  to  the  Divine  favor.  But 
as  he  did  not  know  their  hearts,  and  fearing  there  might 
be  some  among  them  who,  with  all  their  spiritual  gifts, 
had  not  believed  to  the  saving  of  their  souls,  he  deemed 
it  important  to  address  them  in  the  language  of  warning, 
and  to  guard  them  against  an  apostacy,  into  which  were 
they  to  fall,  they  could  not  be  recovered.  This  view  of 
the  case  supplies  a  reason  for  the  manner  of  his  address, 
without  supposing  it  doubtful  whether,  if  true  believers, 
they  would  certainly  persevere.  Nay,  the  very  fact  of 
distinguishing  between  things  which  accompany  salva- 
tion and  things  which  do  not,  is  a  clear  indication  of  the 
ground  which  he  takes ;  and  that  this  ground  is  not,  that 
if  true  Christians  they  were  liable  to  fall,  and  fall  irre- 
coverably, for  ought  he  or  they  knew  to  the  contrary;  but  „ 
an  apprehension  that  they  were  not  all  true  Christians, 
however  distinguished  by  their  gifts  or  attainments.  But 
there  is  another  opinion,  which,  to  some  extent,  has  pre- 
vailed in  this  country,  and  which,  though  of  modern 
origin,  deserves  to  be  considered.  It  is  this.  That  the 
Apostle  describes  Christian  character  in  this  passage,  and 


456 


ON    APOSTACY. 


Christian  character  only,  while  there  is  no  intimation 
that  Christians  ever  do,  in  fact,  utterly  fall  away,  but 
only  if  they  should  fall,  they  could  not  again  be  recovered. 
It  is  supposed  that  the  Apostle  speaks  hypothetically — • 
putting  a  case  which  is  physically  possible  but  morally 
impossible — and  putting  it  for  the  purpose  of  awakening 
fear,  and  thus  to  prevent  the  evil  against  which  he  warns. 
Two  things  here  are  worthy  of  notice.  The  first  is,  that 
we  find  nothing  in  the  original  which  is  answerable  to 
the  hypothetical  form  in  our  translation.  It  is  not  there 
said  if  they  shall  fall  away,  but,  in  the  judgment  of  seve- 
ral able  critics,  "  and  having  fallen  away,"  implying  a 
case  which  might  in  fact  occur,  and  which,  without  great 
circumspection,  probably  would  occur.  The  second 
thing  is,  that  on  the  above  view  of  the  passage  it  is  not 
easy  to  see  to  what  purpose  the  Apostle  should  introduce 
this  subject  to  the  notice  of  Christian  professors  ;  if  they 
were  false  professors  it  did  not  belong  to  them,  they  had 
no  concern  in  it.  And  if  they  were  true  professors,  it 
implies  a  case  which  he  and  they  knew  could  never  be- 
come theirs.  To  tell  them  what  would  happen  or  what 
would  not  happen,  upon  the  occurrence  of  an  event 
which  it  was  well  known  never  would  occur,  does  not 
seem  adapted  to  work  either  upon  their  hopes  or  their 
fears.  But  perhaps  the  design  of  the  Apostle  was  merely 
to  state  a  fact  important  for  all  true  Christians  to  know, 
viz.:  that  they  must  persevere  in  order  to  be  saved; 
and  that  all  their  attainments  would  be  vain  without 
this.  If  this  were  his  object,  why  does  he  dwell  upon 
the  guilt  and  deplorable  consequences  of  an  entire  apos- 
tacy  aggravating  every  circumstance,  as  if  intending  to 
alarm  his  Christian  brethren  with  an  event,  dreadful  in 
itself,  and,  in  point  of  fact,  likely  to  happen  ?  All  this 
would  seem  to  be  unnecessary,  not  to  say  out  of  place, 
if  his  only  design  was  to  state  the  fact  that  perseverance 
in  well-doing  was  essential  to  salvation.  Would  any 


ON    APOSTACY.  457 

person  at  this  day,  who  believes  in  the  final  perseverance 
of  the  saints,  take  such  a  method  to  assure  his  brethren 
that  they  only  who  endure  unto  the  end  can  be  saved  ? 
But  I  hear  it  said,  doubtless  the  Apostle  had  the  further 
intention  of  exciting  the  fears  of  his  Christian  brethren, 
and  by  means  of  those  fears  to  preserve  them  from  final 
apostacy.  There  cannot  be  a  doubt,  indeed,  that  such 
was  the  fact.  But  how  does  this  fact  agree  with  the 
supposition  that  he  had  been  describing  the  character 
and  condition  of  true  believers  only  ?  This  is  vital  to 
the  subject,  and  I  hope  will  arrest  your  attention.  »Would 
the  Christian  Hebrews  be  concerned  about  the  issue  of 
their  salvation  by  being  told  that  if  true  believers  should 
fall  away,  an  event  which  they  knew  never  had  hap- 
pened, and  never  would,  they  could  not  again  be  re- 
covered. How  could  they  be  made  to  fear  an  event 
with  respect  to  themselves,  which,  on  the  supposition  that 
they  were  true  Christians,  was  just  as  impossible  as  for 
God  himself  to  lie  ?  and  which,  if  they  were  not  true 
Christians,  did  not  concern  them  at  all  ?  For  let  it  be 
remembered  that  on  the  present  hypothesis  it  is  of  the 
apostacy  of  true  Christians  that  the  Apostle  speaks.  But 
do  not  true  Christians  sometimes  fear  their  own  apos- 
tacy ?  And  may  not  this  very  fear  be  a  means  of  their 
preservation  ?  So  we  most  certainly  believe.  But  pray, 
how  is  this  fear  to  be  excited  ?  By  telling  them  of  what 
they  know  never  did  happen  and  never  wrill  ?  Or  by 
telling  them  what  every  man  in  the  Christian  world 
knows  to  be  fact,  viz. :  that  men  may  go  great  lengths  in 
religion  without  being  truly  religious;  may  have  great 
knowledge,  great  gifts  and  high  hopes,  and  yet  fall  away 
irrecoverably.  The  Church  has  witnessed  such  facts  from 
the  beginning,  and  it  is  scarcely  possible  that  they  should 
not  awaken  fear  in  the  bosom  of  true  Christians,  especially 
if  they  have  not  reached,  and  do  not  live  in  the  full 
assurance  of  hope.  But  let  us  sift  this  matter  to  the 


458 


ON    APOSTACY. 


bottom.  The  present  interpretation  supposes  that  the 
doctrine  of  the  saints'  perseverance  is  a  true  doctrine  ; 
of  course  that  the  Apostle  and  the  Christians  to  whom 
he  was  writing  believed  it.  Now  I  have  to  request  of 
every  man  who  receives  the  same  doctrine  to  examine 
his  own  mind  upon  this  subject.  Is  he  ever  afraid,  if  a 
true  Christian,  that  he  shall  not  persevere  ?  Does  he 
ever  dwell  upon  the  awful  consequences  of  a  true  Chris- 
tian's apostacy,  and  harrow  up  his  mind  with  the  tre- 
mendous guilt  and  hopeless  nature  of  such  a  case  ?  No  ? 
We  dare  make  our  appeal  to  the  bosom  of  every  man, 
that  this  is  an  object  which  never  arrests  his  attention 
for  a  single  moment.  lie  dreads  no  such  thing,  and  for 
this  plain  reason,  he  knows  it  can  never  take  place,  if 
the  doctrine  of  the  saints'  perseverance  be  true.  All  his 
fears  spring  from  another  source ;  peradventure,  he  says 
to  himself,  I  am  not  a  true  Christian ;  my  experience 
may  be  nothing  beyond  the  experience  of  hypocrites 
or  self-deceived  persons.  This  is  the  ground,  and 
the  only  ground,  on  which  fear  can  assail  him  so  long 
as  he  is  firmly  persuaded  that  no  true  Christian  will 
ever  finally  fall  away.  Are  we  then  to  believe,  with 
so  plain  a  case  before  us,  that  the  Apostle  would  at- 
tempt to  alarm  his  Christian  brethren  with  respect  to 
their  own  safety,  on  principles  and  by  means  which 
would  in  no  degree  alarm  us  ?  That  he  would  solemnly 
declare  to  them  that  true  believers  could  never  be  re- 
covered from  an  apostacy  which  would  never  happen ! 
And  yet,  to  this  absurdity  we  are  necessarily  brought  by 
supposing  that  he  describes  true  Christians  in  the  words 
before  us,  and  as  such  warns  them  against  an  irrecover- 
able fall.  Nor  will  it  relieve  the  difficulty  in  our  appre- 
hension, by  resorting  to  a  distinction  sometimes  made, 
that  a  thing  may  be  physically  possible,  while  it  is 
morally  impossible.  For  supposing  an  event  to  be  phy- 
sically possible  while  it  is  known  to  be  morally  impossi- 


ON    APOSTACY. 


459 


ble,  or  morally  certain  that  it  will  never  occur,  can  it, 
in  these  circumstances,  be  an  object  either  of  hope  or  of 
fear  ?  Surely  it  will  not  be  pretended  that  I  can  hope 
for  an  object  which  I  know  to  be  unattainable,  let  the 
cause  of  its  unattainableness  be  what  it  may.  And  with 
as  little  justness  can  it  be  said  that  I  can  fear  an  object 
which  I  have  the  highest  assurance  will  never  exist. 
Did  ever  a  man  hope  for  the  recovery  of  the  finally  lost, 
who  firmly  believes  in  the  doctrine  of  eternal  punish- 
ment ?  Or  did  ever  a  man  fear  that  saints  will  fall 
from  the  fruition  of  heaven,  who  has  not  one  doubt  of 
the  permanence  of  their  bliss  ?  The  thing  is  in  a  high 
degree  irrational,  and  can  never  take  place  while  the 
laws  of  the  human  mind  remain  what  they  are. 

But  after  all  it  may  be  said,  how  can  the  expressions 
in  our  text — so  full  in  themselves,  and  so  multiplied  one 
upon  another — be  understood  of  any  but  of  true  believ- 
ers ?  Have  any  but  true  believers  been  once  enlight- 
ened ?  tasted  of  the  heavenly  gift  ?  been  made  partak- 
ers of  the  Holy  Ghost  ?  tasted  the  good  word  of  God  ? 
and  the  powers  oi  the  world  to  come  ?  Yes,  my  dear 
brethren,  there  were  persons  in  the  Apostles'  day,  to 
whom  all  these  expressions  were  strictly  applicable, 
though  they  had  never  been  renewed  in  the  temper  of 
their  minds,  nor  possessed  of  one  particle  of  that  faith 
to  which  the  promise  of  eternal  life  is  annexed.  These 
are  not  the  terms,  striking  as  they  are,  which  are  usually 
employed  to  designate  the  Christian  character.  Nothing 
is  here  said  of  that  sorrow  for  sin  which  is  after  a  godly 
sort ;  of  that  faith  which  is  unfeigned — of  that  charity 
which  seeketh  not  her  own — nor  of  that  brotherly  love 
which  is  the  bond  of  perfectness ;  nothing,  in  short, 
of  any  of  those  graces  which  are  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit, 
and  which  decisively  mark  the  regenerated  man.  Not 
one  of  the  circumstances  here  dwelt  upon,  can  be  ap- 
pealed to  as  substantial  evidence  of  that  holiness  with- 


460 


ON  APOSTACY. 


out  which  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord.  Striking  view, 
indeed,  are  given  of  privilege  and  attainment — but  no- 
thing is  said  of  those  things  which  the  Scriptures  else- 
where lay  down  as  unquestionable  marks  of  true  piety. 
Of  this  we  shall  be  better  satisfied  after  examining  briefly 
the  terms  here  employed. 

I  begin  with  the  phrase  "  those  who  were  once  en- 
lightened ;"  that  is,  as  I  understand  it,  and  as  it  is  under- 
stood by  most  commentators,  those  who  had  been 
enlightened  by  the  light  of  Christianity  or  by  the  truths 
of  the  Gospel.  That  the  phrase  has  sometimes  a  more 
extended  signification  and  applies  to  those  who  are  sav- 
ingly illuminated,  we  cheerfully  concede.  But  that  it  is 
often  otherwise,  and  means  no  more  than  to  be  specu- 
latively  enlightened  by  the  truth,  must  be  admitted  by 
those  who  are  at  all  conversant  with  the  sacred  writings. 
It  is  thus  used  in  the  tenth  chapter  of  this  Epistle  ;  and 
also  in  the  fourth  chapter  of  the  Ephesians,  where  the 
Apostle  declares  that  he  was  appointed  to  preach  among 
the  Gentiles  the  unspeakable  riches  of  Christ,  "  that  he 
might  make  all  men  see,"  or,  as  it  might  be  rendered, 
"  that  he  might  show  light  to  all,  so  as  to  make  them  see 
what  is  the  fellowship  of  the  mystery  which  from  the 
beginning  of  the  world  hath  been  hid  in  God  who  crea- 
ted all  things  by  Jesus  Christ."  The  Sacred  Scriptures 
abound  with  expressions  of  kindred  import.  Jesus 
Christ  is  called  the  light  of  the  world,  and  the  light 
which  lighteneth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world; 
not  because  he  imparts  spiritual  and  saving  light  to  all, 
but  because  the  light  of  Divine  truth  was  widely  diffused 
by  means  of  his  ministry  and  that  of  his  Apostles.  John, 
his  forerunner,  was  a  light,  and  the  Pharisees  for  a  sea- 
son were  willing  to  rejoice  in  his  light — not  because  he 
was  to  them  the  instrument  of  saving  illumination,  but 
because  the  light  of  his  doctrines  powerfully  and  favora- 
bly affected  them  for  a  time.  The  Gospel  is  called  a 
light,  inasmuch  as  it  imparts  the  light  of  Divine  truth  to 


ON    APOSTACY. 


461 


the  understandings  of  men.  "  This  is  the  condemnation 
that  light  hath  come  into  the  world,  and  men  love  dark- 
ness rather  than  light."  Truth,  so  far  as  it  is  received, 
dispels  the  darkness  of  ignorance;  and  hence  to  receive 
the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  and  to  be  enlightened,  are 
expressions  of  equivalent  import. 

Can  it  then  be  any  matter  of  surprise  that  the  Apostle 
should  characterize  those  who  were  in  danger  of  apos- 
tacy  by  their  having  been  once  enlightened  ?  Since 
whatever  speculative  light  they  might  have,  it  was  no 
evidence  of  a  renovated  heart,  and  no  effectual  security 
against  an  open  and  irrecoverable  fall  ?  But  should  the 
expression  be  taken  in  a  still  wider  sense,  so  as  to  in- 
clude some  extraordinary  illumination  of  the  Divine 
Spirit,  it  wrould  not  follow  that  the  subjects  of  it  were 
savingly  enlightened.  It  might  still  be  true  of  them  that 
they  never  beheld  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus 
Christ,  nor  were  changed  into  the  same  image  from  glory 
to  glory,  even  as  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord.  Was  not 
Balaam  extraordinarily  enlightened,  when  he  predicted 
the  prosperity  of  Israel,  and  the  coming  of  the  Messiah  ?  as 
well  as  his  own  future  condemnation  ?  "  Balaam,  the 
son  of  Beor  hath  said,  and  the  man  whose  eyes  are  open 
hath  said — he  hath  said  who  heard  the  words  of  God 
and  knowledge  of  the  Most  High — I  shall  see  him,  but 
not  now ;  I  shall  behold  him,  but  not  nigh  :  there  shall 
come  a  star  out  of  Jacob,  and  a  sceptre  shall  rise  out  of 
Israel,  and  shall  smite  the  four  corners  of  Moab,  and 
destroy  all  the  children  of  Sheth."  Here  was  a  man 
enlightened,  and  enlightened  in  a  miraculous  manner,  but 
whose  mind  was  never  savingly  illuminated,  nor  his 
heart  brought  into  sweet  subjection  to  God.  Nor  is  it 
in  the  least  degree  improbable  that  this  was  the  case 
with  some  of  whom  the  Apostle  speaks  in  the  clause 
under  consideration. 

(2.)  But  he  describes  those,  also,  who  had  not  only 


462 


ON    APOSTACY. 


been  enlightened,  but  had  tasted  the  heavenly  gift,  and 
been  made  partakers  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  I  consider 
these  two  clauses  together,  because  in  the  judgment  of 
some  commentators  they  both  refer  to  one  and  the  same 
thing,  viz. :  the  gift  of  the  Spirit — not  in  his  sanctifying 
but  in  his  convicting  influence,  and  perhaps  also  in  his 
miraculous  power,  by  which  he  imparted  extraordinary 
gifts.  That  many  persons  were  subjects  of  the  Spirit's 
convincing  influence  in  the  Apostolic  age,  without  ever 
being  quickened  to  a  new  and  holy  life,  nobody  doubts, 
who  believes  in  the  agency  of  the  Spirit  at  all.  Nor 
ought  it  to  be  doubted  that  the  very  same  persons  were 
often  made  partakers  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  his  miracu- 
lous power,  in  consequence  of  which  they  were  enabled 
not  only  to  speak  with  tongues  and  to  prophesy,  but  to 
heal  the  sick,  and  raise  the  dead,  and  cast  out  devils. 
To  our  short-sighted  understandings,  it  may  appear 
strange  that  unholy  men  should  be  thus  miraculously  en- 
dowed. But  from  the  words  of  the  New  Testament  the 
fact  is  unquestionable  :  and  this  fact  is  not,  as  we  might 
suppose,  here  and  there  an  instance  of  the  kind,  but 
instances  in  great  numbers.  "  Many  shall  say  unto  me  in 
that  day,  Lord,  have  we  not  prophesied  in  thy  name,  and 
in  thy  name  cast  out  devils,  and  in  thy  name  done  many 
wonderful  works,  to  whom  I  will  say,  I  never  knew  you ; 
depart  from  me  ye  that  work  iniquity/' 

It  is  not  improbable  that  Judas  wrought  as  many  mir- 
acles for  a  time  as  did  the  other  Apostles.  Nor  is  there 
anything  in  the  case  which  should  either  surprise  or 
stumble  us.  Miraculous  gifts  imply  no  new  nature,  and 
could  no  more  infer  God's  peculiar  favor  in  the  Apostles' 
days,  than  the  distinguishing  gifts  of  his  common  provi- 
dence can  in  ours.  Paul  seems  to  have  well  understood 
this  when  he  said :  "  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues 
of  men  and  angels,  and  have  not  charity,  I  am  become 
as  sounding  brass,  or  a  tinkling  cymbal ;  and  though  I 


ON    APOSTACY.  453 

have  the  gift  of  prophecy,  and  understand  all  mysteries 
and  all  knowledge,  and  though  I  have  all  faith  so  as  to 
remove  mountains,  and  have  not  charity,  I  am  nothing," 
which  supposes  not  only  that  there  is  no  infallible  con- 
nection between  these  gifts  and  the  sanctifying  grace  of 
God,  but  that  the  subjects  of  them  may  be  worthless  in 
his  sight,  and  fall  under  the  tokens  of  his  everlasting 
displeasure.  If  any  choose  to  say,  as  some  have  done, 
that  tasting  the  heavenly  gift  relates  to  the  instruction 
and  to  the  privilege  of  living  under  the  Christian  econ- 
omy, which  is  certainly  the  gift  of  heaven,  we  have 
nothing  to  object ;  and  if  to  be  partakers  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  should  be  interpreted  simply  to  be  endowed  with 
miraculous  gifts,  no  important  error  will  be  advanced 
whether  the  whole  truth  be  embraced  or  not.  But  let  it 
not  be  forgotten,  that  all  this  is  very  far  short  of  true  piety. 
(3.)  Moreover,  as  tasting  the  heavenly  gift  and  being 
made  partakers  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  carry  us  to  nothing 
which  distinguishes  the  true  believer,  so  we  think,  that 
tasting  the  good  Word  of  God,  and  the  powers  of  the 
world  to  come,  makes  no  greater  approximation  to  the 
Christian  character. 

To  taste  the  good  Word  of  God,  doubtless  implies  not 
merely  an  acquaintance  with  this  Word,  but  a  pleasure 
experienced  in  listening  to  its  counsels,  and  in  contem- 
plating the  blessings  which  it  tenders.  And,  possibly, 
it  may  imply  that  hope  is  awakened  and  fear  allayed, 
and  even  joy  enkindled  in  view  of  the  merciful  provi- 
sions which  it  announces  to  the  guilty  ;  for  all  this  is  not 
unfrequently  experienced  by  those  who  do  not  sincerely 
comply  with  the  conditions  of  the  Gospel.  How  was  it 
wTith  the  stony-ground  hearers,  mentioned  by  our  Lord 
in  the  parable  ?  They  heard  the  Word,  and  anon  with 
joy  received  it,  but  not  into  a  good  and  honest  heart ; 
and,  consequently,  did  not  embrace  it  from  right  mo- 
tives. There  was  no  deepness  of  earth,  where  the  seed 


ON    APOSTACY. 

fell,  and,  therefore,  no  security  that  when  it  should 
spring  up,  it  would  not  wither  away.  Herod  heard 
John  gladly,  and  did  many  things ;  but  he  did  not  truly 
repent,  nor  forsake  sin.  And  thousands  who  were 
charmed  with  the  preaching  of  Christ,  and  rejoiced  in 
his  ministry  for  a  time,  afterwards  forsook  him  and  joined 
with  those  who  demanded  his  crucifixion.  How  many 
cases  have  we  all  seen  of  persons  deeply  affected  by  the 
Word  of  Truth,  and  professing  cordially  to  embrace  it, 
who,  in  the  end,  gave  mournful  evidence  that  the  image 
of  their  Saviour  w*as  never  drawn  upon  their  hearts. 
Such  instances  were  numerous  in  the  first  ages  of  the 
Church.  Nor  is  it  strange  or  unnatural  to  suppose,  that 
the  Apostle  had  his  eye  turned  especially  to  them. 

But  he  speaks  of  those  who  had  not  only  tasted  the 
good  Word  of  God,  but  the  powers  of  the  world  to  come ; 
that  is,  as  is  commonly  supposed,  of  the  age  to  come, 
meaning  the  Gospel  dispensation,  so  called  because  it 
succeeded,  and  was  predicted  to  succeed,  the  Jewish 
dispensation.  Understanding  then,  by  the  world  to  come, 
the  Gospel  or  coming  age,  it  will  be  natural  to  interpret 
the  powers  of  this  age,  of  the  miraculous  powers  or  gifts 
which  attended  the  introduction  of  Christianity,  and 
which  were  tasted  or  experienced  by  the  persons  of 
whom  the  Apostle  speaks. 

But  as  this  would  be  little  more  than  a  repetition  of 
what  had  been  said  of  the  same  persons  when  they  were 
declared  to  be  made  partakers  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  some 
have  preferred  another  interpretation ;  and  by  tasting  or 
experiencing  the  powers  of  the  world  to  come,  would 
understand  some  vivid  apprehensions  of  another  and 
eternal  world — such  views,  say  of  heaven  and  hell,  as 
awakened  in  these  persons  a  deep  concern  for  their 
eternal  welfare,  and  put  them  upon  vigorous  efforts  to 
secure  it ;  a  case  often  witnessed  in  times  of  religious 
revivals,  where  no  evidence  is  given  of  being  born  of 


ON    APOSTACY.  455 

God,  and  where    no  hope  is  indulged  that   any  such 
change  has  been  effected. 

But  take  either  of  these  interpretations,  and  we  shall 
be  compelled  to  admit  that  they  embrace  nothing  which 
is  peculiar  or  essential  to  Christian  character.  There  is 
indeed  but  a  single  article  in  this  whole  description, 
according  to  a  late  Biblical  critic,  which  contains  any- 
thing properly  discriminative  of  true  piety ;  and  for  this, 
he  exhibits  no  evidence  from  the  power  and  force  of  the 
words  themselves,  nor  from  the  connection  in  which 
they  stand  to  other  parts  of  the  description.  The  phrase 
to  which  he  alludes  is,  "  and  have  tasted  the  good  Word 
of  God ;"  that  is,  according  to  his  interpretation,  "  have 
experienced  or  known  by  experience  the  good  Word  of 
God,  or  the  good  contained  in  its  promises ;"  referring, 
as  he  thinks,  to  the  consolations  administered,  or  to  the 
hopes  excited,  by  the  promises  of  the  Gospel.  Now, 
we  have  no  doubt  that  the  persons  spoken  of  had  expe- 
rience, and  experience  of  the  good  Word  of  God ;  that 
their  hopes  were  awakened  by  its  promises,  and  perad- 
venture  their  joys  excited.  But  the  question  is,  What 
was  the  nature  of  their  experience  ?  Was  it  of  a  sancti- 
fying and  transforming  character  ?  Nothing  of  this  is 
implied  or  intimated ;  and  it  is  certainly  somewhat  sin- 
gular that  every  other  characteristic  given  in  this  passage 
confessedly  falls  short  of  true  piety,  while  this  alone  is 
supposed  to  embrace  it.  The  fact  is,  as  we  believe,  that 
the  Apostle  throughout  designedly  selected  such  terms 
as  would  mark  high  and  peculiar  privileges  and  attain- 
ments, but  would  not  necessarily  involve  Christian  char- 
acter. We  must  not  protract  this  discussion,  or  we 
should  deem  it  important,  in  supporting  the  views  we 
have  taken,  to  compare  our  text  with  several  other 
passages  in  the  Apostle's  writings,  particularly  with 
what  is  said  in  chapters  x.  and  xii.  of  this  epistle.  In 
both  places  the  Apostle  speaks  of  a  final  and  irrecover- 
30 


466 


ON    APOSTACY. 


able  apostacy,  which  he  feared  might  actually  overtake 
some  of  his  brethren,  and  which  he  wished  them  to  fear 
in  regard  to  one  another.  He  speaks  of  it  as  an  event 
which  might  actually  occur,  for  aught  he  or  they  knew 
to  the  contrary,  and  bids  them  beware  of  the  very  first 
steps  or  leadings  to  such  an  apostacy.  Nay,  in  the 
twelfth  chapter  he  brings  forward  an  example  of  an  in- 
dividual who,  for  treating  with  negligence  and  contempt 
the  special  advantages  he  enjoyed,  not  only  exposed 
himself  to  lose,  but  actually  did  lose,  the  important 
blessings  in  his  offer.  "  Looking  diligently/'  says  he, 
"  lest  any  man  fail  of  the  grace  of  God ;  lest  any  root  of 
bitterness  springing  up,  trouble  you,  and  thereby  many 
be  defiled ;  lest  there  be  any  fornicator  or  profane  person, 
as  Esau,  who  for  one  morsel  of  meat  sold  his  birthright. 
For  ye  know  how  that  afterward,  when  he  would  have 
inherited  the  blessing,  he  was  rejected,  and  found  no 
place  of  repentance,  though  he  sought  it  carefully  with 
tears."  To  what  purpose  was  this  reference  to  the  case 
of  Esau,  unless  it  was  analogous  to  the  one  which  the 
Apostle  was  endeavoring  to  illustrate — an  apostacy  from 
exalted  privilege,  not  from  Christian  character,  accom- 
panied with  certain  and  irremediable  ruin  ?  Some  have 
thought  that  Esau,  by  profanely  despising  his  birthright, 
cut  himself  off  finally  from  the  blessings  of  God's  cove- 
nant. If  this  were  so,  his  case  was  not  merely  analogous 
to  that  of  apostates  under  the  Christian  dispensation ;  it 
was  virtually  an  example  of  such  apostacy,  inasmuch  as 
by  despising  the  advantage  put  into  his  hands,  he  for- 
feited the  friendship  of  God  and  brought  down  upon  his 
guilty  head  the  vengeance  due  to  his  sacrilegious  con- 
tempt. But  how  unmeaning,  not  to  say  impertinent, 
would  such  an  example  be,  if  the  Apostle  was  speaking 
of  an  apostacy  of  true  Christians — an  apostacy  which  he 
and  his  brethren  knew  never  had  happened  and  never 
would ! 


ON    APOSTACY.  457 

I  ask  your  attention  to  a  single  illustration  more.  It 
is  taken  from  a  passage  in  the  Second  Epistle  of  Peter, 
compared  with  a  similar  one  found  in  Jude. 

After  speaking  of  those  who  had  forsaken  the  right 
way — not  of  those  simply  who  were  in  danger  of  for- 
saking it ;  of  those,  I  say,  who  had  forsaken  the  right 
way,  and  were  gone  astray,  following  the  way  of  Balaam, 
the  son  of  Besor ;  of  those  who  were  wells  without 
water,  and  clouds  that  are  carried  with  a  tempest,  to 
whom  the  mist  of  darkness  is  reserved  forever ;  persons 
whose  judgment  now  a  long  time  lingered  not,  and  whose 
damnation  slumbered  not  ;  who  spoke  great  swelling 
words  of  vanity,  promising  others  liberty,  while  they 
themselves  were  the  servants  of  corruption ;  persons 
who  could  surely  be  none  other  than  actual  apostates 
from  the  Christian  faith.  After  speaking  of  such  persons, 
he  adds  :  "  For,  if  after  they  have  escaped  the  pollutions 
of  the  world,  through  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  they  are  again  entangled  therein, 
and  overcome ;  the  latter  end  is  worse  with  them  than 
the  beginning ;  for  it  had  been  better  for  them  not  to 
have  known  the  way  of  righteousness,  than,  after  they 
have  known  it,  to  turn  from  the  holy  commandment  de- 
livered unto  them.  But  it  has  happened  unto  them 
according  to  the  true  proverb  :  '  The  dog  is  turned  to 
his  own  vomit  again,  and  the  sow  that  was  washed,  to 
her  wallowing  in  the  mire.' ' 

Two  facts  lie  upon  the  face  of  this  passage. 

1st.  That  the  persons  here  described  were  never  true 
Christians  ;  their  moral  nature  had  undergone  no  change, 
through  the  renewing  operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
They  were  dogs  and  swine,  possessed  of  an  unclean 
nature  from  the  beginning,  though  for  a  season  appa- 
rently corrected  in  their  impure  habits.  And, 

2d.  That  they  had  actually  apostatized,  and  stood  ex- 
posed to  the  just  judgments  of  God.  That  their  apostacy 


468 


ON    APOSTACY. 


was  final  and  irremediable,  is  generally  conceded,  and 
cannot  well  be  denied,  after  looking  at  their  opinions 
and  practice,  and  considering  the  awful  denunciations 
which  the  Apostle  has  made  concerning  them.  If  sin- 
ning willfully  and  presumptuously,  after  having  received 
the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  (as  these  persons  most  cer- 
tainly had,)  can  cut  a  man  off  from  the  hopes  of  Divine 
mercy,  and  render  his  perdition  inevitable,  there  is  not 
the  least  reason  to  doubt  that  Peter  here  speaks  of  those 
whose  apostacy  was  irrecoverable,  having  drawn  back 
unto  perdition. 

I  ask,  then,  is  this  case  parallel,  so  far  as  Christian 
character  is  concerned,  with  the  one  presented  in  our 
text  ?  I  know  that  Peter  speaks  of  an  apostacy  which 
had  happened,  and  Paul  of  one  which  might  happen ; 
but  is  the  apostacy  mentioned  by  both  writers,  from 
among  the  same  class  of  persons,  and  substantially  of 
the  same  character  ?  If  this  should  be  conceded,  and 
some  of  our  modern  expositors  concede  it,  there  seems 
to  be  no  escape  from  the  conclusion,  either  that  true 
Christians  do  sometimes  utterly  fall  away,  or  that  the 
Christian  character  is  not  described  in  the  words  of  our 
text. 

We  have  already  exceeded  the  usual  limits  of  a  single 
discourse ;  but  there  are  two  or  three  objections  to  the 
opinion  we  have  advanced  which  require  a  brief  notice. 

The  first  is,  that  if  the  persons  described  in  our  text 
were  not  true  Christians,  but  evidently  fell  short  of  this 
character,  why  was  the  Apostle  so  solicitous  about  their 
apostacy,  seeing  they  would  perish  where  they  were, 
though  they  should  never  apostatize  ?  Ought  he  not 
rather  to  have  addressed  them  as  hypocrites,  and  ex- 
horted them  to  repentance,  instead  of  bidding  them  take 
heed  lest  they  should  fall  ? 

This  objection,  let  me  say,  overlooks  an  important  fact 
which  governed  the  Apostle  in  his  addresses  to  the 


ON    APOSTACY. 

churches,  viz.,  that  he  did  not  know  the  hearts  of  his 
Christian  brethren.  Whether  they  were  or  were  not 
what  they  professed  to  be  was  more  than  he  could  tell. 
He  had  his  hopes,  and  with  regard  to  some  of  them, 
very  joyful  hopes  ;  but  he  had  his  fears  also.  Many  who 
had  begun  in  the  spirit  had  ended  in  the  flesh,  and  how 
many  more  would  do  so  time  alone  could  determine. 
He  was  obliged,  therefore,  to  address  them  in  their  col- 
lective capacity,  as  professors  of  religion,  in  whom  his 
confidence  was  more  or  less  strong,  as  their  work  and 
labor  of  love  had  been  more  or  less  conspicuous.  He 
could  not  distinguish,  if  he  would,  between  those  whose 
hearts  were  truly  renovated  and  those  who  fell  short  of 
this  change,  though  in  gifts  and  supernatural  attainments 
they  ranked  as  high  as  others.  He  was  placed  in  the 
same  circumstances,  in  relation  to  them,  as  ministers  of 
the  Gospel  are  to  their  people  now ;  and  his  address  to 
them  proceeds  exactly  upon  the  same  principles.  He 
warns  and  expostulates,  encourages  and  reproves,  just 
as  a  faithful  pastor  would  do  at  the  present  day.  It  was 
eminently  fit  and  becoming,  therefore,  that  he  should 
put  them  on  their  guard  against  an  apostacy  which  had 
proved  fatal  to  many,  and  which  he  had  every  reason  to 
fear  might  prove  so  to  some  of  them.  But  it  would  have 
been  exceedingly  unfit  and  improper  to  assume  the  fact 
of  their  hypocrisy  or  self-deception,  whether  as  individ- 
uals or  as  a  body,  and  then  to  exhort  them  to  repent- 
ance ;  and  the  more  so,  if  no  clear  proof  existed,  either 
of  their  hypocrisy  or  deception  ?  We  should  instantly 
condemn  such  a  course  in  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  at 
the  present  day,  and  why  not  in  the  Apostle,  had  he 
been  so  unwise  as  to  fall  into  it. 

But  why,  it  is  asked,  was  he  so  afraid  of  their  apos- 
tacy, if  not  true  Christians,  seeing  they  must  perish  to 
all  eternity,  living  and  dying  as  they  were  ?  Let  me 
tell  you.  In  the  first  place,  he  feared  this  on  their  own 


470 


ON    APOSTACY. 


account.  In  their  present  state,  supposing  them  not  true 
Christians,  there  was  ground  to  hope  that  they  might 
be,  considering  the  mercy  of  God,  and  the  many  appro- 
priate means  they  enjoyed.  But  were  they  openly  to 
apostatize  from  the  Christian  faith,  and  to  fall  back  again 
into  Judaism,  which  seemed  to  be  the  danger,  all  hope 
in  their  case  would  forever  be  extinguished,  and  they 
must  lie  down  in  bitter  and  unavailing  sorrow. 

In  the  second  place,  the  Apostle  feared  on  account  of 
others.  Their  apostacy,  he  knew,  would  exert  a  dele- 
terious influence  on  multitudes,  both  within  and  without 
the  Church — weakening  and  discouraging  those  within, 
and  scandalizing  and  destroying  those  without.  The 
apostacy  of  Christian  professors  has,  in  every  age,  been 
among  the  greatest  hindrances  to  the  progress  of  the 
Gospel,  and  inflicted  the  deepest  wounds  upon  its  friends. 
Was  there,  then,  or  was  was  there  not,  a  ground  for  the 
Apostle's  solicitude,  lest  some  of  these  Christian  Hebrews 
should  apostatize  from  the  faith,  though  he  should  sup- 
pose this  to  occur  only  among  those  who  had  never  been 
truly  born  of  God  ? 

2d.  But  another  and  more  weighty  objection  to  the 
interpretation  we  have  given,  is  taken  from  the  Apos- 
tle's declaration — That  it  is  impossible  to  renew  again 
to  repentance  those  who  have  fallen  away  ;  implying,  as 
is  supposed,  that  they  had  actually  been  renewed  once, 
but  could  not  be  renewed  the  second  time.  This  has 
been  urged  with  great  confidence,  but,  as  we  believe, 
without  sufficient  examination.  Let  the  word  <aXiv,  or 
again,  be  referred  to  falling  away,  instead  of  the  renew- 
ing to  repentance,  as  Mr.  Pool  thinks  admissible  accord- 
ing to  Greek  usage,  and  we  have  a  sense  perfectly  free 
from  embarrassment.  The  Apostle,  in  this  case,  is  made 
simply  to  assert  that  it  is  impossible  to  renew  to  repent- 
ance, or  truly  to  convert  those  who,  after  receiving  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth,  had  again  fallen  away.  Apart 


ON    APOSTACY.  47  ^ 

from  the  exigency  of  the  case,  this  construction  is  ren- 
dered the  more  probable  from  the  fact  that  the  same 
Apostle  uses  similar  language,  on  a  like  subject,  in  his 
Epistle  to  the  Galatians,  (Gal.  iv.  9.)  "  But  now  after 
ye  have  known  God,  or  rather  are  known  of  God,  how 
turn  ye  again  to  the  weak  and  beggarly  elements," 
(meaning  the  Jewish  rites  and  ceremonies,)  "  whereunto 
ye  desire  again  to  be  in  bondage."  How  turn  ye  again? 
Not  that  they  had  turned  once  before,  and  were  now 
turning  the  second  time  to  those  weak  and  beggarly  ele- 
ments. The  meaning  plainly  is,  how  is  it  that  ye  return 
or  go  back  to  the  state  of  bondage  whence  ye  came  ? 
It  is  of  an  apostacy  to  Judaism  that  the  Apostle  speaks, 
both  to  the  Hebrews  and  to  the  Galatians,  and  would  it 
be  any  matter  of  wonder  if  he  should  use  language  in 
the  same  sense  when  speaking  precisely  of  the  same 
subject  ?  But  allow  us  the  construction  here  suggested, 
and  the  argument  urged  in  the  objection  is  entirely 
swept  away.  But  doubtless  we  shall  be  told  that  the 
adverb  ^ax«v,  or  again,  is  designed  to  qualify  the  word 
before  which  it  stands,  and  not  the  word  which  imme- 
diately precedes  it,  so  that  we  are  not  at  liberty  to  join 
it  to  which  we  please.  Let  me  only  say,  that  there  are 
forty  instances,  at  least,  in  the  New  Testament  alone, 
where  it  is  otherwise,  and  it  is  otherwise  in  the  parallel 
passage  referred  to  in  Galatians ;  here  the  adverb  stands 
after  the  word  which  it  qualifies — a  fact  of  some  import- 
ance in  this  discussion.  But  we  would  not  rest  our  in- 
terpretation upon  any  such  difference  of  grammatical 
usage.  Let  it  be  as  our  opponents  would  have  it,  and 
construe  the  passage  as  our  translators  have  done,  that 
it  is  impossible  to  renew  again  to  repentance  those  who 
fall  away.  There  is  still  an  answer  to  be  made,  which, 
to  my  own  mind  at  least,  is  convincing.  The  answer  is 
this :  that  the  adverb  here  is  a  pleonism,  and  alters  not 
the  sense  of  the  verb  to  renew.  Such  is  the  opinion  of 


472 


ON    APOSTACY. 


Schleusner,  of  the  use  of  the  word  in  this  place,  and  also 
in  that  of  Galatians  to  which  we  have  already  alluded. 
In  both  cases,  he  supposes  the  sense  of  the  word  to  be 
complete,  without  the  additional  word  *aXiv  or  again. 
Nor  can  we  suppose  that  his  judgment  was  warped,  on 
this  occasion,  by  a  desire  to  maintain  any  Calvinistic 
dogma.  But  without  referring  to  the  critical  opinions 
or  discussions  of  others,  who  does  not  know  that  in  our 
language,  at  least,  we  are  in  the  constant  habit  of  using 
the  word  again  merely  for  the  sake*of  emphasis,  without 
implying  a  repetition  of  what  had  been  said  or  done 
before. 

Jesus  said  to  Martha,  thy  brother  shall  rise  again.  I 
know,  said  Martha,  that  he  shall  rise  again  at  the  last 
day.  Not  that  he  had  risen  once  and  was  expected  to 
rise  the  second  time,  but  simply  that  he  should  rise  from 
the  dead,  or  be  restored  to  life.  "  Blessed  be  the  God 
and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who,  according  to 
his  abundant  mercy,  hath  begotten  us  again  to  a  lively 
hope."  Did  anybody  ever  suppose  the  Apostle  meant  to 
assert  here  that  Christians  were  a  second  time  begotten 
to  a  lively  hope,  because  he  says  you  were  begotten 
again  ?  Or  did  our  translators  suppose  this  ?  for  I  refer 
more  particularly  to  the  language  which  they  employ. 
We  all  know,  indeed,  that  here  was  a  second  generation, 
but  not  a  second  generation  to  a  lively  hope  •  and  yet, 
if  the  word  again  had  the  force  of  repetition,  or  of  second 
in  relation  to  the  first,  this  absurd  consequence  would 
follow.  All  agree,  however,  to  consider  it  as  pleonastic, 
or  at  most,  as  emphatic,  designed  to  express  with  a  little 
more  strength  the  fact  that  these  Christians  were  begot- 
ten to  a  lively  hope  of  an  eternal  inheritance.  And 
where  now,  let  me  ask,  lies  the  impropriety  of  giving 
the  same  sense  to  the  word  again  in  the  passage  under 
consideration  ?  That  the  Greeks  often  used  their  *aX<v 
in  a  sense  similar  to  this,  there  can  be  no  reason  to  doubt. 


ON    APOSTACY. 


473 


Let  this  term  then  be  referred  even  to  the  renewing 
spoken  of  in  our  text,  or  to  the  falling  away,  and  it  will 
draw  after  it  no  such  inference  as  our  opponents  imagine, 
but  leave  our  interpretation  free  and  unembarassed. 
There  are  other  objections  of  minor  importance,  which, 
did  time  allow,  we  might  take  leave  to  consider.  I 
name  one  or  two.  It  is  said  that  Paul  expresses  his  fear 
of  final  perdition  after  he  w7as  a  Christian,  and  after  he 
had  the  happiness  to  know  that  this  was  his  character, 
which  cannot  be  reconciled  with  our  statement  that 
there  is  no  ground  to  fear  any  such  result  with  regard  to 
the  established  believer.  But  I  ask  how  does  it  appear 
that  the  Apostle  was  the  subject  of  any  such  apprehen- 
sions ?  Why,  he  says  "  he  kept  his  body  under,  lest 
after  preaching  to  others  he  himself  should  be  a  cast- 
away." This  is  certainly  his  language,  but  if  we  advert 
to  the  connection  we  shall  instantly  perceive  that  it 
authorizes  no  such  conclusion.  "  So  run  I  not  as  un- 
certainly; so  fight  I  not  as  one  that  beateth  the  air; 
but  I  keep  my  body  under,  lest  after  preaching  to  others 
I  myself  should  be  a  cast-away." 

He  had  a  race  to  run,  and  he  must  not  stop  in  the 
midst  of  his  course  ;  perseverance  to  the  end,  he  knew, 
was  essential  to  his  obtaining  the  prize.  But  was  he 
doubtful  whether  he  should  pesevere  and  obtain  the 
crown  ?  Nothing  can  be  wider  from  the  fact.  "  So  run  I 
not  as  uncertainly."  He  had  a  definite  object,  and  was 
sure  of  winning  it.  He  had  a  conflict  to  sustain,  but 
this  was  neither  trifling  in  itself,  nor  uncertain  in  its 
issue.  It  called  forth  all  his  powers,  and  pointed  to  a 
victory  which  he  was  sure  to  win ;  not  by  his  own  un- 
aided strength,  but  by  the  power  of  the  spirit  which 
rested  upon  him.  But  notwithstanding  his  confidence 
of  victory,  you  may  say,  he  was  afraid  of  being  a  cast- 
away, and  therefore  kept  his  body  under.  We  do  not 
so  understand  him.  "  Keeping  his  body  under,  lest  he 


474 


ON    APOSTACY. 


should  be  a  cast-away/'  implies  no  more  than  using  the 
appropriate  means  to  secure  an  important  end.  Self- 
denial  was  necessary  to  salvation;  but  not  self-denial 
for  a  few  days,  but  a  perseverance  in  this  duty.  Nothing 
short  of  this  would  save  him  from  being  a  cast-away, 
and  secure  the  final  approbation  of  his  Judge.  This  fact 
he  fully  recognized,  and  governed  himself  accordingly. 
And  this  is  all  the  passage  teaches.  It  neither  intimates 
nor  admits  that  he  has  any  doubts  or  fears  as  to  final 
results. 

A  similar  objection  may  be  urged,  from  the  language 
of  Paul,  in  Actsxxvii.:  "Except  these  abide  in  the  ship, 
ye  cannot  be  saved."  But  was  this  the  language  of  fear  ? 
Had  he  any  doubts  or  misgivings,  as  to  the  ultimate  sal- 
vation of  the  ship's  crew  ?  Did  he  not  firmly  believe 
God,  who  had  positively  and  explicitly  promised  their 
safety  ?  There  seems  no  reason  for  doubt.  But  though 
he  expressed  and  believed  that  all  would  be  saved,  he 
expected  this  result  in  the  way,  or  by  the  means  which 
God  appointed ;  and  this  way  he  announces,  when  he 
says  to  the  centurion  and  soldiers,  "  Except  these 
(meaning  the  sailors)  abide  in  the  ship,  ye  cannot  be 
saved."  The  end  was  certain,  but  the  means  to  it  were 
no  less  certain ;  and  both  were  of  God's  appointment. 
The  end  would  not  take  place  without  the  means ;  and 
this  is  what  he  asserts,  while,  at  the  same  time,  he  dis- 
tinctly informs  them  that  the  continuance  of  the  sailors 
in  the  ship  was  an  indispensable  part  of  these  means. 
There  is  no  evidence  that  he  had  any  doubts  or  fears  as 
to  the  final  issue. 

But  did  he  not  address  the  fears  of  others  ?  This  must 
depend  upon  the  confidence  which  the  centurion  and 
the  soldiers  had  in  Paul's  testimony,  that  none  of  them 
should  ultimately  be  lost.  If  they  had  an  unwavering 
assurance  of  this  fact,  there  is  no  necessity  of  supposing 
that  they  acted  from  fear,  when  they  cut  the  ropes,  and 


ON    APOSTACY.  475 

let  the  boat  fall  into  the  sea ;  but  only  from  a  prompt 
regard  to  the  Divine  intimation  that  their  salvation  was 
connected  with  the  seamen's  abiding  in  the  ship.  The 
probability  is,  that  they  had  fear,  and  that  they  took  the 
course  which  Paul  suggested,  because  they  deemed  it 
the  most  prudent,  in  the  perils  which  surrounded  them. 
Little  as  they  knew  of  the  Apostle,  they  could  not  well 
be  certain,  that  his  announcement  of  the  final  safety  of 
the  ship's  crew  would  be  verified.  They  doubtless 
hoped  it  would,  and  thought  it  best  to  be  governed  by 
his  counsel.  But  they  could  not  positively  know,  until 
the  event  should  decide.  Admitting,  therefore,  that  they 
had  fears,  and  that  these  fears  were  addressed  by  the 
Apostle,  as  the  means  of  their  salvation,  it  furnishes  no 
objection  to  the  doctrine  advocated  in  this  Lecture,  be- 
cause the  case  here  is  not  parallel  with  that  of  true 
believers,  provided  they  have  the  full  assurance  of  hope, 
and  provided,  also,  the  doctrine  of  the  saint's  persever- 
ance be  true.  The  centurion  and  soldiers  had  no  cer- 
tainty as  to  the  issue  of  their  perils,  on  any  condition,  and 
might  well,  therefore,  fear  the  result ;  but  in  the  case  of 
true  believers,  known  and  considered  as  such,  there  is 
no  ground  to  fear.  By  the  promise  and  oath  of  God, 
they  are  positively  assured  of  eternal  life,  and  can  no 
more  doubt  of  this,  than  they  can  doubt  the  veracity  of 
Jehovah. 

We  retain,  therefore,  the  undiminished  conviction, 
that  the  language  of  the  Apostle,  in  the  passage  which 
stands  at  the  head  of  this  Lecture,  can  be  justly  inter- 
preted of  those  only  who  are  distinguished  by  their  privi- 
leges and  attainments ;  not  of  those  who  believe  to  the 
saving  of  the  soul. 


LECTURE    XXII. 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 


JOHN  vi.  44. — "  No  man  can  come  to  me,  except  the  Father,  which  hath  sent 
me,  draw  him." 

IT  is  good  for  us  to  be  humbled — and  God  has  declared 
it  to  be  a  leading  design  of  the  Gospel,  to  stain  the  pride 
of  all  human  glory.  Every  part  of  this  wonderful  scheme, 
in  its  origin,  in  its  progress,  in  its  consummation,  tends 
to  exalt  God — and  to  lay  man  in  the  dust !  We  cannot 
turn  to  a  page  of  the  Gospel  record,  without  finding 
something  of  this  character.  Do  we  glory  in  the  dignity 
or  strength  of  our  natural  powers,  in  our  acquisitions,  or 
in  our  enjoyments?  The  Gospel  teaches  us  that  we 
have  nothing  but  what  we  have  received,  and  that  it  is 
God  alone  who  causeth  us  to  differ.  Do  we  think  favor- 
ably of  our  moral  dispositions,  or  secretly  flatter  ourselves 
with  our  virtues  ?  The  Gospel  declares  that  we  are,  by 
nature,  children  of  wrath  and  disobedience,  having  no 
power  to  please  God ;  because,  with  all  our  good  quali- 
ties, we  possess  nothing  in  our  unrenewed  state  which 
he  dignifies  with  the  name  of  virtue.  Do  we  think  our- 
selves safe  because  the  Word  of  life  is  preached  to  us — 
or  because  we  hear  the  voice  of  our  Redeemer  calling  to 
us  to  come  unto  him  and  be  saved  ?  Our  Lord  con- 
founds this  self-deluding  imagination,  with  all  the  vain 
hopes  attached  to  it,  by  declaring,  as  in  the  words  before 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY.  477 

us :  ' '  No  man  can  come  to  me,  except  the  Father,  which 
hath  sent  me,  draw  him." 

But  will  not  many  object  to  this  declaration  ?  Will 
they  not  say,  "  If  we  cannot  come  to  Christ,  how  are  we 
to  blame  for  not  coming  ?  And  if  we  can  come,  what 
need  of  being  drawn  by  the  Father?  Are  not  these 
things  strange  and  contradictory  ?"  Strange  and  contra- 
dictory as  they  may  seem,  the  Divine  Teacher  will  not 
take  back  his  words,  nor  soften  their  import.  He  lays 
down  his  doctrine  with  great  clearness  and  strength : 
He  speaks  with  the  authority  of  one  who  came  forth 
from  God,  and  who  is  God  himself.  Whatever  may  be 
our  opinions  or  our  feelings,  his  Word  will  stand  in 
broad  and  legible  characters  when  the  fire,  which  con- 
sumes all  things,  shall  have  dissolved  this  earth  and 
these  heavens.  It  is  in  vain  to  contend  against  what  is 
written ;  the  reck  will  not  be  removed  out  of  its  place 
for  us.  But  though  we  may  not  contend,  we  may  law- 
fully inquire ;  and  sure  I  am,  the  more  diligent  and  hum- 
ble our  inquiry,  the  more  cheerfully  shall  we  subscribe 
to  w^hat  God  has  revealed. 

In  attending  to  the  words  before  us,  I  propose,  in  the 
First  place,  briefly  to  consider  what  it  is  to  come  to 
Christ. 

Second.  To  notice  our  Lord's  assertion,  that  no  man  can 
come  to  him  unless  drawn  by  the  Father. 

First.  What  is  it  to  come  to  Christ  ?  This  is  a  question 
of  great  practical  importance,  and  requires  often  to  be 
discussed.  To  come  to  Christ,  is  but  another  expression 
for  believing  on  Christ,  and  is  so  expounded  by  our  Lord 
in  the  chapter  before  us.  After  stating  to  the  Jews  that 
he  was  the  true  bread,  which  came  down  from  heaven, 
and  which  giveth  light  to  the  world,  he  says  :  "  He  that 
cometh  to  me  shall  never  hunger,  and  he  that  believeth  on 
me  shall  never  thirst ;"  as  if  coming  to  him,  and  believ- 
ing on  him,  were  one  and  the  same  thing.  And  again  : 


478  ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 

"  All  that  the  Father  giveth  to  me  shall  come  to  me ; 
and  he  that  cometh  to  me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out;  and 
this  is  the  Father's  will  that  hath  sent  me,  that  of  all 
which  he  hath  given  me,  I  should  lose  nothing,  hut 
should  raise  it  up  again  at  the  last  day."  Which  he 
explains  hy  what  follows :  "  And  this  is  the  will  of  him 
that  sent  me,  that  every  one  that  seeth  the  Son,  and 
believeth  on  him,  may  have  everlasting  life ;  and  I  will 
raise  him  up  at  the  last  day."  He  that  comes  to  Christ, 
and  he  that  believes  on  Christ,  performs  one  and  the  same 
act,  and  is  entitled  to  the  same  promise,  the  promise  of 
eternal  life. 

A  like  use  of  these  terms  is  found  in  the  following 
chapter :  "  In  the  last  day,  that  great  day  of  the  feast, 
Jesus  stood  and  cried,  saying,  "  If  any  man  thirst,  let 
him  come  unto  me  and  drink  ;"  and  immediately  subjoins, 
"  He  that  believeth  on  me,  as  the  Scripture  hath  said,  out 
of  his  belly  shall  flow  rivers  of  living  water ;"  alluding 
to  the  Spirit  which  they  who  believe  on  him  should 
receive. 

But  what  is  it  to  believe  on  Christ  ?     It  implies, 
1st.    That  we   credit  the  Divine  record  concerning 
him ;  that  he  is  very  God  as  well  as  very  man ;  that 
in  this  mysterious  union,  he  sustains  the  office  of  Media- 
tor, and  has  performed  a  glorious  work  of  obedience  and 
suffering,  by  which  he  hath  expiated  sin  and  brought  in 
everlasting  righteousness,  so  that  God  can  extend  pardon 
to  the  penitent  and  believing,  without  derogating  from 
the  honor  of  his  government,  and  in  a  way  which  both 
glorifies  his  attributes,  and  secures  and  illustrates  the 
rights  of  his  throne ;    that  as  Mediator,  Christ  is  now 
exalted  to  the  right  hand  of  his  Father,  and  sways  the 
sceptre  of  universal  dominion ;  while  as  an  omnipotent 
Saviour,  he  proclaims  to  all,  through  the  medium  of  the 
Gospel,  that  whosoever  will  may  come  to  him,  and  that 
he  that  cometh  to  him  he  will  in  no  wise  cast  out. 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY.  479 

This  is  the  record  which  God  has  given  of  his  Son. 
But  it  is  one  thing  to  believe  it,  as  we  believe  any  other 
doctrine  or  fact,  upon  creditable  testimony  ;  and  another, 
to  believe  it  with  the  heart,  or  with  corresponding  dis- 
positions :  which  leads  me  to  remark, 

2d.  That  to  constitute  true  faith  in  the  Saviour,  there 
must  be  a  cordial  approbation  of  this  record.  It  is  with 
the  heart  that  man  believeth  unto  righteousness;  and  hence, 
true  faith  is  described  as  an  active  moral  principle  which 
works  by  love,  and  gives  us  the  victory  over  the  world. 
The  devils  believe  and  tremble,  but  they  have  no  love. 
They  are  compelled  to  yield  assent  to  the  truths  of  the 
Gospel,  but  they  have  no  approbation  of  these  truths. 
Their  hearts  are  constantly  and  powerfully  set  against 
them.  So  it  may  be  with  unrenewed  men  ;  their  reason 
and  judgment  may  be  gained,  while  their  hearts,  with 
all  their  strength,  stand  opposed  to  the  Redeemer.  If 
this  were  not  the  case,  why  do  many,  who  have  no  spec- 
ulative doubts  of  the  truths  of  the  Gospel,  so  utterly 
disregard  them  ?  And  why  is  it  that  faith  is  represented 
as  the  fruit  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  one  of  the  evidences 
of  a  renewed  heart  ?  But  we  need  not  urge : — There  is 
no  truth  better  established,  than  that  faith  is  a  principle 
to  be  referred  to  our  moral  as  well  as  to  our  intellectual 
powers,  and  is  a  joint  exercise  of  the  understanding  and 
the  heart.  They  who  believe  in  Jesus,  so  as  to  receive 
him,  and  become  united  to  him,  must,  of  necessity,  ap- 
prove both  of  his  character  and  work.  But 

3d.  To  complete  our  idea  of  faith  in  the  Saviour,  there 
must  be  a  cheerful  reliance  upon  him  for  pardon  and 
eternal  life.  This  naturally  flows  from  assenting  to  the 
truth  of  the  Divine  testimony  concerning  him,  and  from 
an  approbation  of  that  testimony.  Before  faith  is  im- 
parted, we  are  strangely  inclined  to  rest  upon  something 
wze  have  done,  or  can  do,  as  the  ground  of  our  accept- 
ance with  God ;  and  nothing  is  more  difficult  than  to 


480 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 


remove  our  self-righteous  hopes.  But  when  we  are 
brought  firmly  to  believe  in  the  divinity  of  our  Lord, 
and  steadily  to  regard  his  great  work  of  obedience  and 
suffering,  as  that  which  lays  a  foundation  for  God  to  be 
just,  and  yet  the  justifier  of  him  that  believeth ;  when 
we  are  not  only  persuaded  of  the  truth  of  this  method 
of  justification,  but  in  our  hearts  approve  of  it,  as  calcu- 
lated to  exalt  God  and  to  abase  the  sinner,  we  cannot 
but  renounce  our  own  righteousness,  and  cleave  to  that 
of  Christ  alone.  The  language  of  our  hearts  will  be, 
"  Lord,  I  will  make  mention  of  thy  righteousness,  and  of 
thine  only."  On  this  I  cast  all  my  hopes  for  pardon  and 
acceptance.  To  this  I  trust  as  my  covering  for  guilt,  my 
refuge  from  thy  wrath,  and  my  title  to  eternal  life.  This 
is  faith  in  Christ,  or,  in  the  language  of  the  text,  coming 
to  him.  But  the  assertion  of  our  Lord,  and  which  we 
are  next  to  consider,  is, 

Second.  That  no  man  can  thus  come  to  him,  unless 
drawn  by  the  Father.  By  the  drawing  of  the  Father,  is 
intended  that  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  upon  the  heart, 
which  is  not  only  necessary  to  bring  the  sinner  to  Christ, 
but  which  never  fails  of  this  effect.  It  is  a  sovereign 
operation,  issuing  in  a  new  and  holy  nature,  and  which 
secures  the  subjection  of  the  soul  to  the  Redeemer. 

This  sentiment  is  supported  not  only  by  the  tenor  of 
our  Lord's  reasoning  in  this  place,  but  by  two  circum- 
stances which  are  particularly  worthy  of  notice.  The 
first  is,  that  they  who  are  drawn  by  the  Father,  and  they 
who  hear  and  learn  of  the  Father,  are  one  and  the  same 
class  of  persons  ;  while  it  is  distinctly  asserted,  that  every 
one  that  heareth  and  learneth  of  the  Father  cometh  unto 
him.  The  second  is,  that  this  agency  of  the  Father  is, 
in  every  instance,  connected  with  a  joyful  resurrection. 
"  No  man  can  come  to  me,  except  the  Father  which  hath 
sent  me  draw  him  ;  and  I  will  raise  him  up  at  the  last  day ;" 
implying  that  all  who  shall  be  thus  drawn  will  not  only 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 


481 


come  to  Christ,  but  constitute  a  part  of  that  mystical 
body,  which  shall  never  be  separated  from  him  as  its 
head,  but  raised  up  in  honor  and  glory  at  his  second 
coming. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  any  constraint 
is  put  upon  the  faculties  of  those  who  are  thus  effica- 
ciously drawn  to  the  Saviour.  The  whole  effect  of  this 
operation  consists,  not  in  causing  them  to  act  against 
their  will,  but  in  making  them  willing ;  agreeably  to  a 
promise  given  to  the  Messiah,  "Thy  people  shall  be 
willing  in  the  day  of  thy  power." 

But  the  principal  point  before  us  is,  That  no  man  can 
come  to  Christ,  unless  he  be  drawn  by  the  Father.  An 
impediment  is  here  supposed,  and  declared,  to  be  univer- 
sal. Men  may  differ  as  to  the  nature  of  this  impediment, 
and  the  cause  to  which  it  is  to  be  ascribed.  They  may 
consider  it  either  as  a  misfortune,  or  as  a  crime;  but 
they  cannot  differ  as  to  the  fact,  if  they  credit  the  testi- 
mony of  the  Lord  Jesus.  No  man  can  come  to  me,  except 
the  Father,  which  hath  sent  me,  draw  him.  Nothing  in  the 
circumstances,  and  nothing  in  the  nature  of  the  case, 
limits  the  assertion  to  one  class  of  men  more  than  to  an- 
other. It  was  true  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  who 
were  full  of  their  own  righteousness,  and  who  could  not 
come  to  Christ  while  they  felt  no  need  of  him,  and  while 
they  disliked  both  his  character  and  doctrine.  It  was 
true  of  the  Sadducees,  that  philosophical  and  reasoning 
sect,  whose  sceptical  hearts  and  voluptuous  lives  ren- 
dered them  the  decided  enemies  of  all  true  religion.  It 
was  true  of  the  common  people,  who  avowed  their  friend- 
ship to  Jesus  as  a  prophet  and  teacher  come  from  God, 
and  who,  from  sinister  and  earthly  motives,  followed  him 
in  the  wilderness  for  days  and  nights  together.  It  was 
true  of  that  whole  generation,  however  distinguished  or 
denominated.  Not  one  of  them  could  come  to  Christ 
without  being  drawn  by  the  Father.  The  same  is  the 
31 


482  ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 

case  still.  Men  cannot  come  to  the  Saviour  without  the 
special  interposition  of  Divine  power.  This  is  just  as 
certain,  as  that  all  men  are,  by  nature,  in  a  state  of  total 
alienation  from  God ;  and  that  faith  is  the  work,  or 
fruit,  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

But  why  cannot  men  come  to  Christ  ? 

It  is  not,  we  remark  in  the  first  place,  for  the  want  of 
opportunity.  We  speak  of  those  who  enjoy  the  light  of 
the  Gospel,  and  to  whom  Christ  is  made  known.  As  to 
the  heathen,  who  have  never  heard  of  his  precious  name, 
the  case  is  different.  Whatever  difficulties  of  a  moral 
kind  they  may  labor  under,  they  cannot  come  to  Christ 
for  want  of  opportunity.  But  all  who  sit  under  the  sound 
of  the  Gospel,  may  come  if  they  will;  a  thousand  and  a 
thousand  times  have  they  been  invited  and  commanded 
to  come,  and  receive  the  gift  of  eternal  life. 

Nor,  in  the  next  place,  is  it  the  want  of  natural  powers : 
By  which  I  mean  those  powers  and  faculties  which  be- 
long to  them  as  men,  and  which  are  necessary  to  consti- 
tute them  moral  agents,  or  free  and  accountable  beings 
— such  as  an  understanding,  to  perceive  the  difference 
between  right  and  wrong,  and  a  will,  to  determine  their 
own  actions  in  the  view  of  motives.*  Destroy  either  of 
these  faculties,  and  they  would  no  longer  be  account- 
able, nor  their  actions  subject  to  any  moral  regulation. 
Without  understanding,  they  would  hold  no  higher  place 
in  the  scale  of  being  than  the  birds  of  the  air  and  the 
beasts  of  the  field ;  and  without  will,  or  the  faculty  of 
determining  their  own  actions,  they  would  be  incapable 
of  freedom,  and  bound  by  no  law.  We  want  no  proof 
of  this  statement;  the  bare  mention  of  the  case  is  suffi- 
cient. 


*  Understanding,  and  will,  are  here  taken  in  a  large  and  popular  sense,  and  de- 
signed to  include  both  the  intellectual  and  active  powers  of  the  mind,  as  percep- 
tion, reason,  memory,  conscience,  volition  and  affection. 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 


483 


The  true  reason,  then,  why  men  cannot  come  to 
Christ,  is  not  the  want  of  opportunity ;  nor  yet  a  defi- 
ciency in  their  natural  powers ;  but  altogether  because 
they  are  destitute  of  right  moral  dispositions,  or  of  a  good 
heart.  This  is  the  only  difficulty  in  the  way  of  their  sal- 
vation ;  and  yet  this  is  so  deep  and  radical,  that,  without 
Divine  interposition,  it  will  never  be  removed* 

I  have  three  reasons  for  saying,  that  the  whole  of  a 
man's  inability  to  come  to  Christ  consists  in  the  want  of 
a  heart. 

The  first  is,  That  if  it  consisted  in  any  thing  else,  God 
would  not  command  him  to  come ;  for,  in  the  whole 
compass  of  the  Divine  commands,  not  an  instance  can  be 
found,  where  God  has  required  a  creature  to  perform  a 
natural  impossibility;  that  is,  a  thing  for  which  he  has 
no  natural  faculties,  or  none  which  are  adequate  to  the 
thing  required.  God  often,  indeed,  requires  men  to  do 
things  which  they  have  no  heart  to  do ;  but  he  never 
did,  and  never  will,  require  them  to  do  things  which 
they  could  not  do,  if  they  had  a  heart.  Christ's  saying 
to  the  sick  of  the  palsy,  "  Arise,  take  up  thy  bed  and 
walk,"  is  no  exception  to  this  remark.  He  said  to  Laz- 
arus, while  in  his  grave,  "  come  forth" — and  who  can 
doubt  that  a  power  went  with  his  word,  which,  if  not 
prior  to,  was  at  least  co-existent  with  obligation  ?  We 
wish  this  great  and  important  principle  of  the  Divine 
government  to  be  kept  in  view,  that  more  is  never  re- 
quired than  there  is  natural  power  to  perform — because, 
on  the  one  hand,  it  demonstrates  that  God  is  a  reason- 
able Being,  and  suits  his  commands  to  the  natural  capa- 
cities of  his  creatures ;  and,  on  the  other,  that  all  diso- 
bedience is  an  unreasonable  violation  of  a  most  righteous 
law. 

But  another  reason  we  have  for  saying  that  a  man  has 
no  other  inability  to  come  to  Christ  but  his  want  of  a 
heart,  is,  that  Christ  himself  has  placed  the  difficulty 


484  ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 

here,  and  here  alone.  Thus,  when  he  saw  how  pertina- 
ciously the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  rejected  his  doctrine 
and  ministry,  he  said,  "  Ye  wiU  not  come  unto  me  that 
ye  might  have  life!"  And  again,  when  he  wept  over 
Jerusalem,  that  incorrigible  city,  and  charged  her  with 
shedding  the  blood  of  the  prophets,  he  said,  "  How  often 
would  I  have  gathered  thy  children  together,  even  as  a 
hen  gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings,  and  ye 
would  not."  Their  own  unwillingness  to  become  his  dis- 
ciples was  the  only  reason  which  Christ  assigned  for 
their  rejecting  him :  and  hence,  the  justice  of  the  awful 
sentence  which  he  pronounced,  "  Behold  your  house  is 
left  unto  you  desolate." 

Our  third  reason,  for  saying,  that  a  man  has  no  other 
ability  to  come  to  Christ  but  what  consists  in  the  want 
of  a  heart,  is,  the  obvious  fact,  that  if  he  had  a  heart 
nothing  could  prevent  his  coming  for  a  single  moment. 
The  great  work  of  his  salvation  would  instantly  be  per- 
formed by  believing  on  Him  whom  the  Father  hath  sanc- 
tified and  sent  into  the  world.  This  is  so  certain,  that  it 
is  out  of  our  power  to  conceive  of  any  difficulty  remain- 
ing where  the  heart  is  once  gained.  It  will  be  under- 
stood, that  we  speak  of  those  who  live  under  the  light 
of  the  Gospel,  and  who  have  had  their  duty  on  this  sub- 
ject faithfully  expounded.  Besides,  if  it  were  not  so, 
how  would  the  drawing  of  the  Father,  which  consists  in 
giving  a  right  temper,  remove  the  impediment  ?  How 
could  men  come  if  they  were  drawn,  unless  being  made 
willing  to  come  on  God's  terms  was  all  that  was  requi- 
site to  make  their  coming  certain  ? 

But  here  a  question  presents  itself.  Why  is  it  said, 
that  we  cannot  come  to  Christ,  if,  after  all,  the  whole  truth 
is,  we  have  no  heart  to  come  ;  or,  which  is  the  same  thing, 
that  no  other  impediment  lies  in  the  way,  but  what  con- 
sists in  the  want  of  a  heart  ?  The  question  is  important, 
and  the  answer  plain.  The  Scriptures  often  speak  of  our 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 

being  unable  to  do  a  thing,  when  all  that  is  intended  is, 
that  we  are  utterly  disinclined  to  do  it — so  disinclined, 
that  it  is  certain  we  shall  not  do  it  while  this  disinclina- 
tion remains.  Thus  it  was  said  of  Joseph's  brethren, 
that  they  could  not  speak  peaceably  to  him.  Not  that 
they  had  not  as  much  natural  or  physical  power  to  speak 
peaceably  as  contentiously,  if  they  had  been  so  disposed; 
but,  being  destitute  of  brotherly  affection,  and  under  the 
reigning  power  of  envy  and  malice,  it  was  incompatible 
with  their  state  of  mind  to  speak  peaceably  to  their  bro- 
ther. Their  cruel  and  reproachful  language  followed  as 
naturally  and  certainly  from  their  envy  and  malignity, 
as  any  effect  from  its  cause.  Yet  every  one  can  see, 
that  they  labored  under  no  other  inability  but  what  con- 
sisted in  the  perverseness  and  wickedness  of  their  hearts. 

The  Scriptures  abound  with  similar  examples.  They 
speak  of  some,  whose  ears  were  uncircumcised,  and  who 
could  not  hearken;  of  some,  who,  when  they  had  com- 
mitted abomination,  were  not  at  all  ashamed,  neither 
could  they  blush  ;  of  those  who  have  eyes  full  of  adultery, 
and  cannot  cease  from  sin.  They  declare,  that  the  na- 
tural man  receiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 
and  that  he  cannot  know  them,  because  they  are  spiritu- 
ally discerned ; — that  the  carnal  mind  is  at  enmity  with 
God,  is  not  subject  to  the  law  of  God,  neither  indeed  can 
be;  and  that  they  that  are  in  the  flesh,  cannot  please  God. 

All  this  is  agreeable  to  language  in  common  use.  We 
often  say,  that  we  cannot  do  a  thing,  when  all  we  mean 
is,  that  we  are  without  all  inclination,  or  utterly  averse 
to  it.  Of  one  man  we  say,  that  he  cannot  govern  his 
temper ;  of  another,  that  he  cannot  govern  his  tongue ;  of 
a  third,  that  he  cannot  refrain  from  his  companions  or 
his  cups ;  and,  we  are  in  no  danger  of  being  misunder- 
stood, when  we  make  use  of  these  expressions.  Every- 
body knows  that  we  mean  to  speak  of  an  inability,  which 
consists  in  the  want  of  right  dispositions — not  in  the 


486  ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 

want  of  natural  powers ;  of  an  inability  which  does  not 
in  the  least  excuse  the  subject  of  it,  but  which  forms  the 
very  essence  of  his  sin.  In  like  manner  we  are  to  un- 
derstand the  Scriptures,  when  they  speak  of  the  sinner's 
inability  to  come  to  Christ.  They  adopt  a  style  agree- 
able to  common  usage,  and  mean  no  more  than  that  sin- 
ners are  so  deeply  alienated  from  Christ — so  utterly  dis- 
inclined to  his  service — that  they  never  will  come  to  him 
while  in  this  state  of  mind ;  and  that  this  state  of  mind 
will  continue  until  it  is  removed  by  Divine  power. 

There  is  no  need  of  any  abstruse  reasoning  on  this 
subject.  You  will  conceive  of  the  matter  justly,  if  you 
consider  that  sinners  cannot  come  to  Christ,  for  the  same 
reason  precisely,  that  they  cannot  do  anything  else  while 
their  hearts  are  altogether  opposed  to  it.  There  is  a 
law  for  mind  as  well  as  matter ;  and  it  would  be  as  ab- 
surd to  suppose  that  a  man  could  freely  do  a  thing  which 
he  had  no  mind  to  do,  as  to  go  north  and  south  at  the 
same  instant.  Nor  does  it  make  any  difference  as  to  the 
principle,  whether  this  want  of  mind  be  stated  or  occa- 
sional ;  for  no  man  can  choose  to  act  against  his  present 
choice,  unless  he  could  choose  to  do  a  thing  and  not  do 
it  at  the  same  time,  which  would  be  a  contradiction. 

As  to  the  case  before  us,  it  is  admitted  and  maintained 
that  sinners  have  a  strong  and  settled  aversion  to  their  duty, 
and  that  they  will  never  come  to  the  Saviour  until  this 
aversion  be  subdued  by  the  sovereign  grace  of  God.  Still 
there  is  nothing  in  the  way,  but  that  stubborn  and  rebel- 
lious heart,  whose  language  is,  "  We  will  not  have  this 
man  to  reign  over  us." 

But  I  hear  it  asked,  does  this  accord  with  experience  ? 
Do  not  sinners  often  feel  a  willingness  to  come  to  Christ, 
and  think  they  would  give  worlds  to  come,  if  they  had 
them,  and  after  all,  find  that  they  cannot  come,  without 
power  received  from  above  ?  There  is  not  the  least 
doubt  that  this  is  often  their  impression.  But  what  is 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 


487 


the  true  state  of  the  case  ?  Are  they  willing  to  come  in 
the  manner,  and  for  the  purposes  which  God  has  required  ? 
The  testimony  of  our  Lord  is  directly  against  them.  He 
said  to  sinners,  "  Ye  will  not  come  unto  me  that  ye  might 
have  life."  And  again  :  "How  often  would  I  have  gath- 
ered thy  children  together,  even  as  a  hen  gathereth  her 
chickens  under  her  wings,  and  ye  would  not."  And  at 
the  great  and  last  day,  he  tells  us  he  will  give  com- 
mandment concerning  all  those  who  shall  have  finally 
rejected  the  Gospel.  "  Bring  hither  these,  mine  ene- 
mies, that  would  not  that  I  should  reign  over  them,  and 
slay  them  before  me." 

The  fact  is,  that  awakened  sinners,  who  have  a  know- 
ledge of  the  Gospel,  very  often  desire  to  come  to  Christ, 
as  a  deliverer  from  the  wrath  of  God ;  but  they  wholly 
mistake  their  own  case,  if  they  suppose  that*  they  are 
willing  and  desirous  to  come  to  him  as  a  holy  Saviour, 
w^ho  is  the  friend  of  God  as  well  as  the  friend  of  man, 
and  whose  design  is  to  save  his  people  from  their  sins, 
and  not  in  their  sins ;  and  to  save  them  in  subserviency 
to  the  Divine  honor  and  glory.  In  this  view  of  his  char- 
acter, "  There  is  no  form  nor  comeliness  in  him,  nor  any 
beauty  why  they  should  desire  him."  They  have  not  a 
particle  of  that  holy  love  which  is  essential  to  the  act  of 
closing  with  Christ  upon  the  terms  of  the  Gospel.  The 
whole  of  their  desires  amounts  to  nothing  more  than  a 
desire  to  be  saved,  come  what  will  of  God's  honor,  and 
the  interests  of  his  everlasting  kingdom.  Be  their  own 
apprehensions,  therefore,  what  they  may,  we  are  author- 
ized in  saying  that  they  have  no  heart  to  come  to  Christ ; 
and  that,  in  the  want  of  a  heart,  lies  all  their  hindrance 
to  this  duty.  At  the  same  time,  we  consider  it  import- 
ant to  keep  to  the  language  of  our  blessed  Lord,  and  to 
say  that  no  man  can  come  to  him,  without  being  drawn 
by  the  Father.  This  is  a  language  well  fitted  to  express 
both  the  guilty  and  helpless  state  of  the  sinner,  and 


488  ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 

seems  plainly  designed  to  prostrate  his  self-righteous 
hopes,  and  to  lead  him  to  the  power  and  grace  of  God 
as  his  only  remedy.  If  men  abuse  this  language  to  ex- 
culpate themselves,  they  do  it  at  their  peril ;  it  is  suffi- 
ciently plain  to  guide  the  sincere  and  humble  inquirer; 
and  more  God  has  not  promised,  nor  is  more  to  be  ex- 
pected or  desired.  We  conclude  this  discourse  with 
some  application.  From  what  has  been  said,  we  infer, 
in  the 

1st  place,  that  the  common  excuse  of  sinners,  that 
they  are  unable  to  come  to  Christ,  or  to  comply  with  the 
terms  of  the  Gospel,  is  utterly  without  foundation,  and 
will  not  avail  them  at  the  bar  of  God.  If  they  could 
not  come  to  the  Saviour  for  the  want  of  opportunity,  or 
because  they  are  destitute  of  natural  powers,  the  plea  of 
inability  might  well  be  urged ;  an  impediment  would 
then  exist,  which  could  not  be  consistent  with  guilt  or 
blame.  But  since  the  fact  is  otherwise,  since  the  whole 
of  their  inability  lies  in  the  want  of  a  right  heart ;  or, 
which  is  the  same  thing,  in  their  opposition  to  the  terms 
of  the  Gospel,  all  heaven  will  acknowledge  the  justice 
of  that  sentence  which  consigns  them  to  eternal  pains 
for  their  unbelief.  For,  reflect  a  moment :  If  I  cannot 
come  to  Christ,  because  I  do  not  love  Christ ;  if  I  cannot 
come  to  Christ,  because  my  heart  is,  in  every  view,  op- 
posed to  him  ;  this  is  surely  so  far  from  affording  me  any 
justification,  that  it  is  the  very  foundation  of  my  guilt ; 
and  the  greater  my  inability  the  greater  my  crime,  be- 
cause it  manifests  a  more  deep  and  inveterate  opposition 
to  the  Son  of  God. 

A  rebellious  son  has  left  his  father's  house,  and,  upon 
a  proposal  of  reconciliation,  finds  it  difficult  to  return ; 
and  his  difficulty  arises  wholly  from  his  disaffection  to 
his  father's  character  and  government,  both  of  which  are 
excellent.  He  is  urged  and  entreated,  and  every  motive 
set  before  him  which  is  calculated  to  operate  upon  a  rea- 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 

sonable  and  ingenuous  mind.  His  disaffection,  however, 
i  s  so  deeply  and  strongly  rooted,  that  all  persuasion  is 
vain  ;  he  had  rather  die  in  poverty  and  disgrace,  an  alien 
from  his  father's  heart,  than  to  return,  and  take  the  place 
of  an  affectionate  and  dutiful  son.  In  this  state  of  feel- 
ing, his  return  is  impossible  ;  but  is  there  a  person  in  the 
world  who  would  attempt  to  excuse  him,  by  saying  he 
could  not  help  it  ? 

The  principle  is  the  same  in  the  case  of  the  sinner. 
His  rebellion  against  God  is,  in  every  circumstance  of  it, 
unreasonable  ;  his  refusal  to  return  to  God,  through 
Christ,  at  the  call  of  the  Gospel,  is  the  most  unreasona- 
ble and  unjustifiable  rebellion  of  all.  And  shall  his  ob- 
stinacy in  sin  be  made  an  excuse  for  sin  ?  Shall  his 
ingratitude  to  the  Saviour  be  pleaded  as  an  apology  for 
rejecting  him  ?  Nothing  can  be  more  irrational.  As 
well  might  the  drunkard  or  the  thief  allege  the  strength 
of  their  evil  dispositions  as  a  justification  of  their  crimes ; 
for  their  inability  to  a  correct  and  virtuous  course  arises 
wholly  from  the  prevalence  of  evil  propensities,  or  from 
the  want  of  good  ones. 

We  know  it  is  often  said,  that  this  is  not  a  parallel 
case — that  persons  charged  with  these  outbreaking  sins, 
could  refrain  from  them  if  they  would — that  there  is  no 
natural  necessity  which  compels  them  to  intemperance  or 
dishonesty.  But  is  there  any  natural  necessity  which 
compels  the  sinner  to  a  course  of  impenitence  and  un- 
belief? Could  he  not  repent  and  believe  the  Gospel  if 
he  had  a  heart  so  to  do?  Did  ever  a  man  make  the 
attempt  with  a  willing  heart,  and  fail  ?  Is  not  the  whole 
difficulty  plainly  the  want  of  such  a  heart  ?  "  But  the 
thief  and  the  drunkard  may  refrain  from  their  evil  courses 
without  that  thorough  change  of  disposition,  which  is 
necessary  to  salvation."  Be  it  so: — This  only  shows, 
that  their  propensities  to  their  particular  crimes  are  not 
so  strong  and  settled  as  the  sinner's  aversion  to  repent 


490  ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 

and  believe  the  Gospel.  It  does  not  show,  that  their 
propensities  may  not,  with  equal  propriety,  be  pleaded 
as  their  excuse,  and  that  the  greater  their  propensities 
the  less  their  sin. 

The  only  reason  why  persons  perplex  themselves  on 
this  subject  is,  they  do  not  make  a  distinction  in  their 
minds  between  a  natural  and  moral  inability — that  is, 
between  an  inability  which  arises  from  the  want  of  natu- 
ral powers,  and  one  which  arises  solely  from  the  want  of 
right  moral  dispositions.  The  first  always  excuses  from 
obligation ;  the  last,  never.  And  let  no  one  say,  this  is  a 
distinction  frivolous  in  itself,  or  hard  to  be  understood. 
It  is  a  distinction  founded  in  the  reason  and  nature  of 
things,  and  is  as  plain  and  undeniable  as  the  distinction 
between  day  and  night.  There  is  not  a  man  on  earth 
who  does  not  make  it  every  day  of  his  life,  if  the  question 
of  duty  or  obligation  so  often  occur.  None  of  us  are  so 
bereft  of  reason  as  to  blame  a  child  for  not  exercising 
the  strength  of  a  man;  or  a  man,  because  he  cannot  stop 
the  sun  in  his  course,  or  blot  out  the  stars.  And  yet, 
there  are  none  of  us  who  would  not  blame  a  refractory 
and  disobedient  child,  however  obstinate  or  unyielding 
his  temper ;  nor  should  we  hesitate  to  condemn,  with 
unabating  severity,  a  malicious  and  revengeful  person, 
though  his  malice  and  revenge  had  become  uniform  and 
settled  principles  of  action. 

The  truth  is,  that  where  our  own  personal  conduct  is 
not  involved,  we  always  go  upon  the  principle,  that  the 
want  of  natural  or  physical  strength  is  no  crime ;  and 
the  want  of  a  good  disposition,  or  the  prevalence  of  a 
bad  one,  no  excuse.  But  charge  home  upon  a  man  the 
sin  of  impenitence  and  unbelief,  and  how  soon  will  you 
hear — "  I  have  no  heart  to  these  duties,  nor  can  I  have, 
till  God  shall  give  me  a  new  heart."  If  you  answer, 
"This  is  your  sin — your  evil  heart  of  impenitence  and 
unbelief  is  the  very  thing  which  condemns  you ;  it  is 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 


491 


against  this  that  all  the  threatenings  of  the  Gospel  are 
leveled  " — what  will  be  his  reply  ?  "  Why,  I  did  not 
make  my  own  heart.  It  came  into  the  world  with  me, 
as  the  fruit  of  the  original  apostacy,  and  how  can  I  help 
it.  Let  it  be  regarded  as  my  misfortune,  not  as  my 
crime.  If  there  be  any  fault  in  it,  it  must  be  placed  to 
the  account  of  our  first  parents,  who,  by  one  transgres- 
sion, involved  their  posterity  in  the  same  mighty  ruin 
with  themselves."  But  if  men  are  not  to  blame  for  their 
hearts,  what  are  they  to  blame  for  ?  They  cannot  surely 
be  to  blame  for  expressing  what  is  in  their  hearts  ;  for, 
by  the  supposition,  there  is  nothing  blameworthy  there  ; 
and  to  attach  blame  to  actions,  w7hich  are  merely  exter- 
nal, unconnected  with  the  state  and  disposition  of  the 
mind,  would  be  as  irrational  as  to  attach  it  to  the  blow- 
ing of  the  wind,  or  the  motion  of  a  clock.  Besides,  if 
men  are  not  to  blame  for  their  hearts,  howT  shall  the 
justice  of  God  stand  vindicated  in  their  future  condem- 
nation ?  His  word  is  "  He  that  believeth,  shall  be  saved; 
and  he  that  believeth  not,  shall  be  damned."  Nay,  he 
has  declared  all  unbelievers  in  a  state  of  condemnation 
already,  "  because  they  believe  not  on  the  name  of  the 
only  begotten  Son  of  God."  He  has  threatened  to  pun- 
ish with  everlasting  destruction,  from  the  presence  of 
the  Lord  and  the  glory  of  his  power,  all  who  tlo  not 
finally  believe  and  obey  the  Gospel.  But  is  God  un- 
righteous who  taketh  vengeance  ?  Dare  we  load  his 
sacred  name  with  this  shocking  imputation  ?  And  yet, 
there  is  no  other  alternative,  if  we  deny  that  sinners 
justly  deserve  eternal  condemnation  for  their  unbelief. 
We  do  not  wish  to  have  it  concealed,  that  man  is  a 
dependent  being,  and  that  such  is  his  sinful  state  by 
nature  that  he  will  neither  repent  nor  believe  without 
the  interposition  of  almighty  grace.  Yet,  so  far  is  this 
from  pleading  his  excuse,  that  it  only  demonstrates  the 


492  ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 

depth  of  his  depravity,  and  shows  it  to  be   capable   of 
resisting  everything  but  Divine  power.     We  infer, 

2d,  That  since  the  sinner's  inability  to  come  to  Christ 
is  wholly  of  a  moral  nature,  and,  therefore,  inexcusable, 
there  is  no  impropriety  in  exhorting  him  to  this  duty, 
notwithstanding  his  inability. 

It  is  often  said,  that  there  is  a  great  inconsistency  in 
exhorting  sinners  to  come  to  Christ,  and  admitting,  at 
the  same  time,  that  they  cannot  come  without  the  special 
grace  of  God.  An  inconsistency  there  would  be,  if  they 
could  not  come  for  the  same  reason  that  they  cannot 
make  a  world,  or  for  the  want  of  natural  powers ;  for, 
on  this  supposition,  all  obligation  would  cease.  But,  as 
there  is  no  other  impediment  except  the  want  of  a  heart, 
they  are  most  justly  and  fitly  required  to  come,  and 
bound  by  all  the  weight  of  the  Divine  authority  and  of 
their  own  everlasting  interest  to  obey.  This  will  appear 
plain  if  we  advert  a  moment  to  the  true  foundation  of 
obligation.  What  is  it  which  binds  a  man  to  a  partic- 
ular action  ?  It  is  not  that  he  once  had,  or  now  has,  a 
disposition  to  perform  it ;  but  the  fitness  of  the  action 
itself,  with  whatever  gives  it  interest  or  importance,  and 
its  falling  within  the  compass  of  his  natural  powers. 
These  things  being  supposed,  his  obligation  is  complete. 
No  matter  whether  his  disposition  be  for  or  against  it ; 
this  is  a  circumstance  never  to  be  brought  into  the  ac- 
count, as  having  any  influence  upon  the  question  of  obli- 
gation. But  suppose  it  were  otherwise ;  suppose  that 
the  want  of  disposition  would  diminish  our  obligation, 
to  what  degree  would  it  diminish  it  ?  To  the  same 
degree,  no  doubt,  in  which  this  w^ant  should  be  found ; 
and  of  course,  where  a  disposition  is  wholly  wanting, 
there  all  obligation  is  canceled.  But  who  does  not  see 
that  this  is  to  make  our  dispositions  the  measure  of  our 
duty,  and  to  overturn  all  law  and  government  at  once,  by 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY.  493 

licensing  every  man  to  act  according  to  his  own  inclina- 
tion ?  On  this  supposition  there  never  has  been,  and 
never  can  be,  any  sin  in  the  universe.  Every  moral 
agent  will  obey  the  law  under  wrhich  he  is  made  as  long 
as  he  has  a  disposition  to  obsv,  and  the  moment  he 
ceases  to  have  a  disposition  he  ceases  to  be  bound ;  the 
law  under  which  he  is  placed  is  no  longer  a  law  to  him, 
and  there  being  no  law,  there  can  be  no  transgression. 

We  push  the  principle  into  these  absurd  consequences 
to  show  that  the  state  of  the  heart  can  have  no  influence 
in  determining  the  law  of  duty.  Duty  arises  out  of  other 
circumstances — out  of  our  natural  powers,  interests  and 
relations — and  will  remain  what  it  is  whether  the  heart 
concur  with  or  oppose  its  demands.  Sinners,  therefore, 
may  justly  be  exhorted  to  come  to  Christ,  notwith- 
standing their  utter  aversion  to  this  duty,  because  their 
aversion  makes  no  difference  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
duty  itself,  nor  as  to  the  force  with  which  it  binds  them. 
They  are  just  as  much  bound  to  come  to  the  Saviour, 
and  to  perform  all  that  the  Gospel  requires,  as  if  they 
possessed  a  ready  and  willing  mind ;  and  though  it  is 
known  beforehand  that  they  will  not  yield  to  the  Gospel 
call  unless  moved  to  it  by  the  sovereign  power  and  grace 
of  God,  still  this  alters  not  the  fact  that  it  is  their  duty 
to  yield,  nor  the  propriety  of  urging  them  to  this  duty. 
Why  then  should  not  the  whole  truth  be  told  ?  Why 
should  we  not  proclaim  in  their  ears  that  they  are  under 
the  most  sacred  obligations  to  come  to  Christ  that  they 
may  be  saved,  and  yet  that  their  depravity  is  such  that 
they  never  will  come  and  never  can  come  without  the 
special  grace  of  God  ?* 


*  It  is  well  known  that  different  sentiments  are  advanced  upon  the  subject  of 
moral  obligation. 

First.  Some  suppose  that  we  are  bound  to  yield  obedience  both  to  the  law  and 
to  the  Gospel,  because  man,  in  his  original  state,  had  a  moral  or  spiritual  power 
to  obey  his  Creator  in  all  things,  and  because  this  power  was  lost  to  him  through 


494  ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 

This  was  the  way  in  which  our  Lord  himself  treated 
the  subject.  He  exhorted  sinners,  of  all  descriptions,  to 
come  to  him  that  they  might  have  life,  and  assured  them 
that  they  would  certainly  and  eternally  perish,  unless 
they  obeyed  his  call.  At  the  same  time  he  did  not 
scruple  to  say,  "  No  man  can  come  unto  me  except  the 
Father,  which  hath  sent  me,  draw  him,  and  I  will  raise 
him  up  at  the  last  day."  He  condemned  the  Pharisees 
for  their  hardened  unbelief,  and  yet  he  said,  "  How  can 
ye  believe,  wrho  receive  honor  one  of  another  ?  And  why 


his  own  fault,  or  by  the  fall.  The  maxim  commonly  repeated  on  this  topic  is, 
that  God  has  not  lost  his  right  to  command,  though  man  has  lost  his  power  to 
obey.  We  cannot  adopt  this  sentiment — 

1st.  Because  it  goes  upon  the  principle,  that  man's  having  a  heart  to  obey  God 
in  his  original  state  was  essential  to  his  moral  agency,  and  that  he  would  not,  and 
could  not,  be  bound  to  obey  God  without  this.  Of  course,  it  was  a  very  wicked 
thing  for  man  to  disobey  God  when  he  had  a  good  heart ;  but  would  have  been  no 
sin  at  all,  if  his  heart  had  not  been  good. 

Besides  the  absurdity  involved  in  this  principle,  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  sin 
could  exist,  if  man's  obligation  to  be  holy  depended  on  his  being  holy,  since  the 
obligation  and  the  foundation  of  it  must  needs  run  parallel  with  each  other.  And 

2d.  Though  the  Scriptures  in  various  ways  recognize  the  fact,  that  man  was 
made  upright,  they  nowhere  ground  his  obligation  to  the  Divine  law  upon  his 
primitive  rectitude,  but  upon  the  reasonableness  and  equity  of  the  Divine  law 
itself — upon  God's  supremacy  and  transcendent  excellence — upon  the  favors  he 
has  conferred  upon  man,  and  upon  what  man  has  yet  to  hope  or  fear  from  him. 
"  And  now,  Israel,  what  doth  the  Lord  thy  God  require  of  thee,  but  to  fear  the 
Lord  thy  God,  to  walk  in  all  his  ways,  and  to  love  him,  and  to  serve  the  Lord 
thy  God  with  all  thy  heart  and  with  all  thy  soul ;  to  keep  the  commandments  of 
the  Lord,  and  his  statutes,  which  I  command  thee  this  day  for  thy  good  ?  Behold, 
the  heaven  and  the  heaven  of  heavens  is  the  Lord's  thy  God  ;  the  earth  also,  with 
all  that  therein  is.  Circumcise,  therefore,  the  foreskin  of  your  heart,  and  be  no 
more  stiff-necked  ;  for  the  Lord  your  God  is  God  of  gods,  and  Lord  of  lords — a 
great  God,  a  mighty  and  a  terrible,  which  regardeth  not  persons  nor  taketh  reward. 
He  doth  execute  the  judgment  of  the  fatherless  and  the  widow.  He  is  thy  praise, 
and  he  is  thy  God."  Deut.  x.  12,  13,  14,  16,  &c. 

3d.  On  this  subject  it  is  evident  that  the  voice  of  conscience  accords  with  the 
testimony  of  Scripture.  No  man  condemns  himself,  when  he  has  bioken  the  Di- 
vine law,  upon  the  principle  that  his  progenitor,  six  thousand  years  ago,  had  a 
disposition  to  obey  God,  but  lost  it.  This  is  a  consideration  too  remote  to  strike 
the  eye  of  conscience.  Conscience  points  him  to  tk«  law  itself  as  holy,  just  and 
good,  and  pronounces  the  verdict,  GUILTY,  on  the  ground  that  he  has  done  that 
which  he  knew  ought  not  to  be  done,  and  which  he  was  bound  by  many  weighty 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 


495 


do  ye  not  understand  my  speech  ?     Even  because  ye 
cannot  receive  my  word." 

The  same  mode  of  presenting  this  subject  is  observable 
in  the  prophets.  Ezekiel  says  to  the  rebellious  house 
of  Israel,  "  Cast  away  from  you  all  your  transgressions 
whereby  you  have  transgressed,  and  make  you  a  new 
heart  and  a  new  spirit ;  for  why  will  ye  die,  O  house  of 
Israel  ?"  At  the  same  time  he  intimates  that  they  would 
certainly  continue  in  their  guilty  course  till  God  should 
undertake  for  them  and  renovate  them  by  his  power. 
This  is  implied  in  the  promise,  which  he  delivers  in 
God's  name :  "  Then  will  I  sprinkle  clean  water  upon 


considerations  to  avoid — considerations  distinct  from  his  own  moral  state,  or  the 
moral  state  of  Adam  before  he  fell.  Conscience  has  no  occasion  to  travel  back 
to  years  beyond  the  flood,  to  find  a  solid  reason  for  self-condemnation  and  re- 
proach. It  has  only  to  measure  our  actions  by  the  law  of  duty  expressed  in  the 
Word  of  God,  or  written  on  the  table  of  the  heart.  Certainly,  it  must  be  thus 
with  the  consciences  of  the  heathen,  who  know  nothing  of  the  primitive  state  of 
man,  and  yet  whose  thoughts  the  meanwhile  accuse  or  excuse  one  another. 

Second.  Others  suppose  that  men  are  bound  to  obey  the  Gospel,  because  God 
has  given  them  grace  whereby  their  depravity  is  so  far  counteracted,  "  that  the 
conditions  of  salvation  become  possible,  and  may,  therefore,  most  justly  be  re- 
quired." But  if  grace  be  the  ground  of  obligation,  it  is  no  more  grace  but  debt ; 
it  is  that  which  must  be  imparted  to  make  it  just  in  God  to  require  obedience  from 
the  sinner.  Besides,  if  the  sinner,  in  consequence  of  his  depravity,  owe  nothing 
to  God — as  must  be  admitted,  if  depravity  destroy  obligation — his  depravity  be- 
comes no  depravity,  he  must,  therefore,  be  guiltless.  God  has  nothing  to  demand 
of  him,  and  has  nothing  to  render  to  God.  Being  innocent  in  the  sight  of  his 
judge,  what  need  of  a  Saviour,  or  of  grace  through  him  ? 

Third.  There  are  those,  again,  who  found  obligation,  not  upon  what  man  once 
was,  antecedent  to  the  fall,  nor  upon  what  he  is  now  supposed  to  be,  in  conse- 
quence of  grace  received,  but  upon  the  promise  that  he  shall  receive  grace  if  he 
carefully  attend  to  the  use  of  means.  This,  equally  with  the  two  former  schemes, 
supposes  that  depravity  excuses  from  obligation.  For  if  no  grace  be  received,  and 
none  promised,  man,  according  to  this  opinion,  is  not  bound  ;  and  why  is  he  not 
bound,  but  because  his  depravity  is  supposed  to  render  obedience  impracticable, 
and  therefore  not  obligatory. 

This  opinion  also  supposes  a  promise  made  to  the  actions  of  unconverted  men 
nowhere  to  be  found  in  the  Scriptures;  that  is,  that  God  has  engaged  to  grant 
converting  grace  upon  the  diligent  endeavors  of  persons  who  are  yet  in  the  flesh, 
and  who,  he  has  expressly  assured  us,  are  incapable  of  pleasing  him.  This  topic 
is  resumed  in  a  subsequent  part  of  the  sermon. 


496  ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 

you  and  you  shall  be  clean  :  a  new  heart  also  will  I  give 
you,  and  a  new  spirit  will  I  put  within  you ;  and  I  will 
take  away  the  stony  heart  out  of  your  flesh,  and  I  will 
give  you  an  heart  of  flesh ;  and  I  will  put  my  Spirit  within 
you  and  cause  you  to  walk  in  my  statutes,  and  ye  shall 
keep  my  judgments  to  do  them." 

There  is  no  danger  in  following  these  examples  in  pre- 
senting Divine  truth  to  mankind.  He  who  w^as  truth 
itself  could  not  err,  and  they  who  spake  by  his  Spirit 
must  have  spoken  according  to  his  will. 

3d.  If  the  sinner's  inability  to  come  to  Christ  be 
wholly  of  a  moral  nature,  then  it  is  fit  not  only  to  exhort 
him  to  come  to  Christ,  but  to  come  without  delay.  This 
is  his  next  or  immediate  duty ;  he  cannot  neglect  it  an- 
other moment,  without  violating  a  solemn  command,  and 
incurring  enormous  guilt.  The  reason  of  this  is  not  dif- 
ficult to  perceive.  There  is  nothing  in  the  way  of  his 
coming  to  the  Saviour  but  a  depraved  heart ;  and  as  this 
can  have  no  effect  in  releasing  him  from  obligation, 
the  command  to  believe  reaches  him  at  once,  and  his 
obligation  is  full  and  perfect,  notwithstanding  his  de- 
pravity. He  is  bound  to  come  to  Christ  immediately,  for 
the  same  reason  that  he  is  bound  to  come  at  all. 

Plain  as  this  deduction  seems,  many  are  not  aware  of 
it,  but  treat  the  subject  as  if  the  sinner's  obligation  to 
repent  and  believe  rested  on  a  promise  of  spiritual  strength 
to  be  received  in  consequence  of  attending  to  certain 
means.  That  is,  they  suppose  that  he  is  not  bound  to 
repent  and  believe  the  Gospel  now,  but  only  to  use 
means  that  he  may  hereafter  repent  and  believe.  But 
why  not  repent  and  believe  now  1  No  other  reason 
can  be  given,  but  that  the  state  of  the  sinner's  heart  is 
incompatible  with  these  duties.  Are  these  duties  there- 
fore to  be  suspended  for  the  time  being,  and  something 
else  placed  in  their  stead  ?  This  is  a  doctrine  very  agree- 
able to  the  sinner's  heart — because  it  admits  that  he  is 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY  '  '  491 

not  bound  to  perform  any  duty  in  a  spiritual  manner 
while  unrenewed.  This  is  what  he  loves  to  hear  when 
disturbed  by  the  spirituality  of  the  Divine  law,  or  when 
urged  to  an  immediate  compliance  with  the  demands  of 
the  Gospel.  It  shifts  from  his  conscience  a  heavy  weight 
of  obligation,  and  leads  him  to  hope  that  through  his  own 
unsanctified  endeavors  he  shall,  sooner  or  later,  obtain 
the  gift  of  the  Spirit  and  the  promise  of  eternal  life.  It 
is,  in  effect,  saying  to  him,  Since  you  cannot  repent  and 
believe,  you  must  do  as  well  as  you  can;  since  you  cannot 
love  God,  you  must  endeavor  to  love  him ;  since  you  can- 
not give  him  your  heart,  you  must  keep  up  a  fair  exte- 
rior in  the  use  of  means,  and  eventually  he  will  bestow 
his  grace  upon  you.  How  shocked  should  we  be  to  hear 
this  language  from  the  great  God  himself;  because  we 
should  instantly  perceive,  not  merely  relaxation,  but  an 
absolute  abandonment  of  his  law,  the  first  and  great 
commandment  of  which  is :  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord 
thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and 
with  all  thy  might  ?  What  a  justification  would  it  be 
of  the  sinner's  rebellion  against  God,  by  admitting  that 
he  is  not  bound  to  render  to  him  the  sincere  and  une- 
quivocal homage  of  his  heart  ?  But  no  such  language 
ever  proceeded  from  Jehovah ;  and,  with  reverence  be 
it  spoken,  no  such  language  ever  can  proceed  from  him 
without  renouncing  his  government  over  the  world.  All 
his  commands  are  spiritual,  and  have  an  immediate  re- 
spect to  the  heart.  Nothing  is  done  which  he  approves, 
or  which  he  makes  the  condition  of  his  favor,  but  what 
flows  from  right  affections,  and  is  of  the  nature  of  true 
holiness,  or  real  conformity  to  his  law.  What  then  is  to 
become  of  the  sinner  who  has  no  heart  to  repent  and 
believe — who  is  without  spiritual  strength,  and  without 
a  promise  that  he  shall  receive  strength,  on  the  condi- 
tion of  anything  which  he  will  ever  perform  in  the  unre- 
newed state?  The  answer  is  not  difficult.  He  will 
32 


498  ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 

inevitably  perish,  if  Almighty  grace  do  not  interpose. 
He  is  in  God's  hands,  as  the  clay  is  in  the  hands  of  the 
potter,  and  it  depends  on  his  sovereign  will,  whether  he 
shall  be  drawn  to  the  Saviour  by  the  effectual  operations 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  or  left  to  reject  Christ,  and  to  bring 
upon  himself  a  just  and  aggravated  punishment. 

But  in  this  perilous  condition,  are  there  no  advices  or 
counsels  to  be  given?  None,  I  answer,  which  shall  be 
a  compromise  between  Jehovah  and  the  sinner — none, 
which  shall  lower  the  standard  of  the  Divine  commands 
to  the  level  of  the  carnal  mind — and  which  shall  imply  a 
promise,  that  if  the  sinner  continue  to  attend  upon  the 
means  of  grace  with  such  a  heart  as  he  has,  God  will,  in 
the  end,  become  propitious,  and  grant  him  the  renewing 
operations  of  his  Spirit*  We  find  nothing  which  ap- 
proaches to  this  in  the  preaching  of  Jesus  Christ,  or  of 
his  apostles.  They  laid  before  men  their  duty  and  the 
motives  which  urged  their  compliance ;  they  expounded, 
reasoned,  exhorted  and  entreated ;  and  if  sinners  would 
not  hear,  they  left  it  upon  their  consciences,  that  their 
guilt  would  be  aggravated  in  proportion  to  the  light  and 
advantages  they  enjoyed.  They  did  not  conceal  that 
men  are  dependent  for  right  affections  on  the  influence 
of  the  Holy  Spirit;  they  ascribed  to  him  every  good 
thought  and  desire.  But  they  did  not,  therefore,  put 
their  hearers  upon  a  course  of  heartless  obedience,  with 
the  promise,  that  their  successive  endeavors  should  be 
rewarded  with  new  strength,  until  they  should  be  en- 
abled to  serve  God  with  sincerity.  They  directed  to 
such  things,  only,  as  implied  the  exercise  of  a  right  tem- 
per, and  which  connected  with  them  the  promise  of  eter- 
nal life. 

Would  we  tread  in  their  steps,  we  must  call  upon  the 
sinner  to  pause,  and  reflect  upon  the  criminal  and  dan- 
gerous course  he  is  in — to  open  his  eyes  to  his  real  char- 
acter, as  a  wanton  and,  presumptuous  rebel  against  God 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY.  499 

— to  search  the  Scriptures,  and  receive  instruction  wher- 
ever it  may  be  found,  watching  daily  at  wisdom's  gates, 
and  waiting  at  the  posts  of  her  doors.  We  must  direct 
him  to  cry  after  knowledge,  and  to  lift  up  his  voice  for 
understanding — to  worship  God  both  in  secret  and  in 
public — and  earnestly  to  importune  the  gift  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  with  all  the  blessings  of  life  and  salvation.  But 
we  have  no  authority  for  saying  that  he  may  perform 
these  duties  with  an  impenitent  and  unbelieving  heart, 
or  that  God  will  accept  him  if  he  does. 

All  this,  it  may  be  said,  brings  him  no  relief,  for  his 
great  difficulty  is,  that  he  has  no  heart  to  perform  any 
duty  in  a  spiritual  manner.     Why  is  he  not  told  how  to 
get  a  heart  ?     In  what  page  of  the  sacred  volume  shall 
we  look  to  find  such  a  direction  ?     The  Scripture  re- 
quires the  sinner  to  possess  a  right  heart — but  does  not 
prescribe  a  course  of  means  by  which  it  is  to  be  obtained; 
nor  could  such  a  course  be  prescribed  without  yielding 
to  him  an  important  point  by  admitting  that  he  is  not 
bound  immediately  to  repent  and  believe  the  Gospel. 
Should  this  be  thought  discouraging,  whom,  let  me  ask, 
will  it  discourage  ?     None  but  those  who  either  want 
an  excuse  for  doing  nothing,  and  perhaps  are  altogether 
idle,  or  those  who  are  secretly  trusting  to  around  of  un- 
holy duties,  as  the  means  of  obtaining  the  Divine  favor. 
The  former  read  their  condemnation  in  the  character 
and  fate  of  the  slothful  servant,  who  hid  his  Lord's  money, 
on  the  principle  that  he  served  a  hard  master,  and  that 
it  was  impossible  to  please  him.     The  latter  are  com- 
passing  themselves    about   with    sparks  of  their   own 
kindling,  and  the  sooner  they  are  discouraged  with  their 
labors  the  better.     It  is  time  for  them  to  see  how  the 
matter  stands  between  them  and  God — that  they  are 
utterly  polluted  and  helpless,  tand  that  if  sovereign  grace 
do  not  interpose  to  slay  the  enmity  of  their  hearts,  they 
will  not  only  persevere  in  their  opposition  to.  Jehovah 


500  ABILITY    AND    INABILITY. 

till   they   die,   but    remain  his  enemies   through  eter- 
nity. 

Have  we,  then,  no  more  hope  of  the  salvation  of  those 
who  attend  upon  the  means  which  God  uses  with  sin- 
ners, than  of  those  who  neglect  them  ?  Certainly  we  have ; 
but  this  hope  does  not  arise,  in  any  degree,  from  their 
approximating  to  holiness,  nor  from  a  promise  made  to 
the  performances  of  unsanctified  men — but  from  what 
occurs  in  the  course  of  Divine  providence,  and  from  the 
natural  presumption  that  God  will  smile  upon  his  own 
institutions.  There  is  more  hope  for  a  man  under  Gos- 
pel light,  than  for  one  sitting  in  pagan  darkness — for  one 
well  instructed  in  evangelical  truth,  than  for  one  in  a 
state  of  ignorance — for  him  who  is  moral,  than  for  him 
who  is  debauched — for  him  who  statedly  attends  upon 
the  institutions  of  religion,  than  for  him  who  neglects 
them — for  him  who  is  awakened  to  a  lively  sense  of  his 
lost  and  guilty  state  by  nature,  than  for  him  who,  not- 
withstanding the  most  faithful  admonitions,  slumbers  in 
security. 

This  hope  may,  and  ought  to  be,  a  motive  with  men, 
to  avoid  those  things  which  threaten  their  eternal  inter- 
ests, and  to  pursue  those  which  increase  the  probability 
of  their  salvation.  Nor  can  we  perceive  any  evil  in  pre- 
senting this  hope,  provided  nothing  be  said  to  weaken  a 
sense  of  obligation  to  an  immediate  compliance  with  the 
terms  of  the  Gospel,  or  which  shall  exhibit  a  stronger 
connection  than  the  Word  or  providence  of  God  will 
justify,  between  the  circumstances  of  the  sinner  and  the 
salvation  of  his  soul. 

4th.  If  none  come  to  Christ  but  those  who  are  drawn 
by  the  Father — and  all  come  who  are  thus  drawn 
— it  is  manifestly  the  grace  of  God  alone,  which  makes 
the  difference  between  those  who  embrace  and  those 
who  reject  the  Gospel,  according  as  it  is  written,  "It  is 
not  of  him  that  willeth,  nor  of  him  that  runneth,  but  of 


ABILITY    AND    INABILITY.  50} 

God  that  showeth  mercy."  Nor  is  it  less  certain,  that 
none  will  embrace  the  Gospel  but  those  whom  God  has 
purposed  or  decreed  should  embrace  it.  Men  embrace 
the  Gospel  in  consequence  of  Divine  interposition ;  but 
if  God  interpose,  he  intended  to  interpose,  and  that  from 
everlasting ;  for  he  can  have  no  new  intention.  The 
conversion  of  a  sinner  to  Christ  is  pre-eminently  his 
own  work — "And  known  unto  God  are  all  his  works 
from  the  foundation  of  the  world :  He  worketh  all 
things  according  to  the  counsel  of  his  own  will." 

5th.  How  rich  is  that  grace  which  triumphs  over  the 
opposition  of  the  human  heart,  and  brings  the  soul  to 
the  Redeemer.  It  was  great  mercy  which  provided  a 
Saviour,  and  freely  offered  salvation  in  his  name  •  great 
mercy  which  continued  this  offer  from  year  to  year,  not- 
withstanding the  unkindness  or  contempt  with  which  it 
was  received  ;  but,  O  believer  !  had  mercy  stopped  here, 
thou  hadst  never  been  united  to  Jesus  ;  nor  indulged  the 
pleasing  hope  of  seeing  his  face,  and  of  rejoicing  in  his 
presence  forever.  That  hardened  heart  which  so  long 
resisted  his  calls  would  still  have  resisted.  It  was  the 
secret  energy  of  the  Holy  Spirit  which  enlightened  thy 
darkness,  subdued  thine  enmity,  and  made  thee  a  willing 
captive  to  Him  who  had  previously  bought  thee  with  his 
blood.  He  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting  love,  and 
therefore,  by  his  loving  kindness  has  he  drawn  thee.  O 
let  not  this  love,  this  discriminating  love,  be  forgotten  ; 
live  for  him  who  died  for  thee  ;  for  him,  who,  of  his  own 
self-moving  goodness,  has  transfused  his  blessed  spirit 
into  thy  bosom,  and  made  thee  heir  of  that  glory  which 
shall  never  fade  away. — AMEJV. 


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